


Heart of the Island: BOOK TWO

by jacob_sayid



Series: Heart of the Island [2]
Category: Lost
Genre: Anal Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dark Character, Dominance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Gentle Sex, Kissing, Light BDSM, M/M, Male Character of Color, Male Homosexuality, Male Slash, Oral Sex, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Sexual Content, Spiritual, Spiritual sex, Spiritual union, Submission, Threesome - M/M/M, Transformation, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, Wordcount: 30.000-50.000, Wordcount: 50.000-100.000, Wordcount: Over 50.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-21 09:08:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 31,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1545329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacob_sayid/pseuds/jacob_sayid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>.<br/>START WITH BOOK ONE, HERE: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1536281/chapters/3251999</p><p>
  <b>Dramatis personæ: Sayid, Jacob, MIB, and a surprise character </b>
</p><p> </p><p>  <b>Heart of the Island is non-canon slash (m/m), Lost fanfic that indirectly refers to events from various seasons of Lost, but has gone off in a new direction.</b></p><p> </p><p><b>HEART OF THE ISLAND:</b> Two brothers have lived on the Island for a very long time. One of the survivors, Sayid Jarrah, is fated to be possessed by them both; one through love, and the other through darkness</p><p><b>In BOOK ONE:</b> Sayid endures an horrific ordeal that breaks him open, healing and transforming the source of his inner darkness. As he loosens the defenses that have kept him apart from others, he finds that he has been accepted by the Island as Jacob's lover.</p><p>Music I listen to while writing the Heart of the Island series: Younger Brother, Foo Fighters, Coke Studio, David Sylvian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the beginning of the second book in my Lost fandom trilogy named THE HEART OF THE ISLAND  
>    
> BOOK ONE is finished and begins here: [The Heart of the Island: Book One](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1536281)
> 
> BOOK THREE of the trilogy is finished and begins here: [The Heart of the Island: Book Three](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2280219/chapters/5011035)
> 
> Total word count for the trilogy is about 90.000, an average sized novel.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **FINAL EDIT NOTES**
> 
>  
> 
> Still the 16th day
> 
> I have brought Sayid Jarrah to my home, to my bed, to be mine at last... He is here... Beautiful Sayid, in my home.
> 
> Sayid sees the pouch for the first time on the bedside table.

* * *

 

Jacob felt something grand finishing, something grand beginning as he sat on the bed, watching Sayid move about his room, learning about Jacob from each item and its place with other personal and intriguing possessions.

A calm elation enveloped Jacob as his dream took form before him, the reality of that which he had longed for all these years, long before the survivors first came to the Island. 

_I have brought Sayid Jarrah to my home, to my bed, to be mine at last..._

He admired Sayid's cocoa brown body in the shifting lamplight, his face dark beneath his tumble of curls. _My Krishna_ , he thought, for Krishna means _beautiful dark one_ in Sanskrit.

_He is here... Beautiful Sayid, in my home._

**Sayid had walked around the entire room, finally lingering at the bedside table, with its little treasures gathered around books and lamps. He noticed a small pouch tied with a circle of finely spun cord, the pouch itself rough and obviously handmade**. Jacob saw his eyes linger on this special item, but he said nothing when Sayid brought his eyes to his, Jacob's face unchanging as he kept his eyes on Sayid.

 _Come down to me_... Jacob thought as he opened the bed to Sayid, welcoming him with his eyes, making room for him, rolling them up together in the center of the large, luxurious bed, smelling slightly of moss. He wrapped Sayid in his arms with great affection, squeezing him, rubbing him, rocking with him. He put his face against Sayid and felt tears start in his eyes as he relaxed into a happiness that enveloped his loneliness, dissolving the insistent ache, filling the empty places with a new beginning.

After awhile, he rolled onto his back, finding that he was singing in his mind the words to a very old, boyhood song of bravado and success, smiling.

Sayid turned and curled up on Jacob, looking up at him, still partaking of his mood.

Jacob reached up to lift Sayid's hair off of his face, who smiled as Jacob played idly with his locks.

"My love," Sayid said.

"I am here," Jacob said.  _We are just beginning..._

Jacob felt himself slipping under all that was Sayid as his new lover bent so slowly to kiss him, slowly, so slowly, deliberate and kind, asserting his presence in Jacob's home and his life, slipping into his place beside him, Island made.


	2. Worship me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Non-explicit m-m sex, explicit/mild dominance and submission
> 
> Night of the 16th day
> 
> sighing and relaxing into his place in the world, with Sayid at the center.

Sayid found himself loosely arranged on the dark bedding, and felt that his eyes were down without deciding to lower them. He felt that he had withdrawn himself, waiting, his inner focus entirely on Jacob, wanting to be only what Jacob desired, to shed every other care or feeling for a time, to be pure and to serve him with love.

Jacob had returned from stepping outside, and noticed Sayid's eyes and his posture of submission, and it stirred in him the perfect desire to serve Sayid by taking him, by defining the essential in him, insisting on the actions that allowed Sayid to react, to be free of initiating, correcting or attaining anything at all, except pleasing Jacob.

 _He is in control all of the time_ , Jacob thought. _I want to know him... when he steps back._

"My Sayid..." Jacob said, a statement. Sayid wanted him to say it again, and again.

"Yes," Sayid answered, without raising his eyes. _I will give him control of me..._  His arousal increased as he gave himself to these feelings.

 _It seems, I feel it deeply that I should first worship him_ , Jacob mused as he accepted Sayid's worship and surrender.

Jacob reached into the bed and gently took Sayid's arm, testing his surrender lightly, then very slowly pulling him across the bed, Sayid falling gently onto the rug, his caramel body beautiful against the rich cream and rose tones of the Persian design, just visible in the darkness.

Sayid knelt and then bowed at Jacob's feet, placing his face on the floor, just as Jacob knew he would, knowing Sayid would find this pleasurable. Jacob said nothing, sinking into the feeling of delicious focus that he gave to Sayid in return for his submission.

"Worship me," Jacob said quietly, firmly, his voice absolutely thrilling to Sayid, who craved this intimate revelation of Jacob's honest desire. 

Sayid put his forehead on Jacob's feet, then kissed and worshiped them with his lips, his face, and his hair. He nuzzled around the edges of Jacob's feet, making love to them with his lips, his nose and forehead, rubbing them with his long locks. He placed his face on Jacob's feet and sat in this way, kneeling to his lover's feet, worshiping him.

"That is good, and pleasing," Sayid said with the same quiet, deliberate tones. Again he enjoyed Jacob simply giving to him, without any movement at all. Jacob was overcome by how beautiful he found Sayid's body as he knelt at his feet, needing him, giving to him.

Sayid was floating in a place that felt so very alive, with very little thought, so that he felt himself lost in waves of sensuous pleasure, his head moving slightly, then falling to one side, losing contact with one of Jacob's feet.

Jacob smiled, pleased to be bringing his beloved so much pleasure that he had overcome Sayid's focus on him. He felt the growing fire rising through him that went with the freedom to say and to do as he pleased, as long as it also pleased Sayid.

"Worship me," he demanded quietly, gently pushing Sayid over with his foot. 

Sayid was obviously distressed by his failure, and righted himself, worshiping Jacob's feet with ardent desire  _...like no feet have been worshiped before or since,_  thought Jacob, silently laughing as he thought of this modern idiom, enjoying himself immensely. Then he gently, insistently pushed Sayid over again with his foot.

"Worship me," he demanded, his voice low, and Sayid returned to grasp his ankles, his legs, slowly kissing and rubbing his face on Sayid's legs and feet, his beloved, wanting so much to please him. 

"I like _this_ , Sayid," Jacob stated firmly, pushing Sayid's face hard onto his feet, holding it there, then standing again, looking down at Sayid's body seeming slightly undone by his pleasure, obviously filled with intense sensation and desire. He noticed the subtle moment when Sayid abandoned his own pleasure, distressed to hear his lover criticize his loving. Sayid did not move, pushing his face into Jacob's feet, loving them fervently. He slipped his hands around Jacob's ankles and caressed them with a strong and loving apology.

Jacob moved casually, taking a step back from Sayid and watching him need him, tormented by this denial.

 _"Tell me,"_  Jacob commanded, finding a new use for their favorite words, culled from their delightful private language.

Sayid fought within to put his hidden desires into words, struggling with a natural shyness in matters of the heart.

"Jacob..." he began, then his voice became more serious, "... _my conqueror_..." Then he laughed, embarrassed. 

 _Oh God yes,_  Jacobfelt Sayid's words run through him as a rush of pleasure. _More of that..._ he thought, wanting more from Sayid.

"Stop laughing," Jacob demanded with a flat voice sourced from venom, stepping forward to push Sayid over with his foot, watching his lover as he struggled with his inhibitions, _inside_.

Sayid felt his body and mind burning upward through him, incinerating his inhibitions, so that his need to please Sayid could not wait, could not be denied. He sat up to crawl to Jacob.

Jacob pushed him over with his foot, then bent to Jacob, grasping him firmly by his hair, putting his lips at Sayid's ear. "You will not approach me unless I say," he instructed, his ancient accent thick and his voice a dark confidence, stepping away, leaving poor Sayid with no way to make amends, clearly in pain, despondent. Sayid remained on the floor as Jacob waited for his lips to make the sounds, as they listened to each other breathe.

 _Oh,_  Sayid thought at last, finding his way. _Oh..._ He sat up, kneeling, fighting his inhibitions, tying to find a way for his deepest feelings to be expressed by a single word.

" _Please_ ," he said simply.

Jacob waited.

" _Please, Jacob, my love..._ " Sayid's voice became desperate.

Jacob waited, feeling his power, the power Sayid gave to him in this moment. _The deep pleasure of waiting..._

" _Jacob_..." Sayid pleaded, begging his lover, needing him, telling him, confessing his honest need.

Jacob waited, as though he was not on fire for Sayid, wanting to bring him up to him, kiss him with all of this passion, to fall with him onto the bed. _Not yet..._

Sayid was still struggling. 

Jacob bent down to him, cupping Sayid's head in his hands as he spoke low at Sayid's ear: "Try again, my love..." He stood again, and was thrilled by the change in Sayid's voice, in his body.

" _Jacob_..." Sayid begged, his voice breaking, desperate to find his way to his beloved. "I worship _you_. I love _you_. _Please_ let me come to you... my Jacob." 

It was as though a silent bell was struck, an invisible door opened. Sayid had not held back. He had given all, had let everything become these few words.

Jacob tucked away Sayid's triumph and his deep respect for it as a treasured memory. His great awe was the sweetness from which a great memory was made.

"Come to me, Sayid," Jacob commanded with honest warmth and admiration, **Sayid's first reward.**  

Sayid found Jacob's feet, and Jacob could feel his tears as he kissed his feet, then put his forehead on them, sighing and relaxing into his place in the world, with Jacob at the center.

Jacob felt a new strength in Sayid as as he lifted him up to him, looking into his eyes with a great and tender kindness for Sayid's full submission, kissing the tears of release, with low sighs, saying Sayid's name over and over as he kissed his face, his hands. Then Jacob clasped the back of Sayid's neck with his hand, encircling his waist with his other arm, and slowly, moved him down to the bed, moving him so that he could lie next to him, touching and kissing him with passion and profound satisfaction.

They held each other, grasping and pleasing each other, pushing against each other, rubbing their fullness, their lips and tongues, their faces together as they drove straight for release, ending in a sodden pile, their breath wild as they came back from a frenzied, passionate embrace of love as motion.

 


	3. Hand of fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FINAL EDIT NOTES:
> 
> After midnight of the 16th day
> 
> It is time to begin, Jacob thought. He is ready to learn, we must begin.  
> Let us begin. Jacob felt a surge of energy as he took up the Island's business.  
> "My Sayee..." he said, reaching to Sayid as the hand of fate.

"Jacob," Sayid whispered as he touched Jacob's face, his eyes, his mouth, cupping his large hand over Jacob's face, feeling the bones underneath the fine skin, claiming him, hiding him. He wanted to possess Jacob's lips, his eyes, his hair, just as he had been possessed by Jacob, as he had pushed on him, grasping Jacob's body for his own pleasure. 

It was after midnight and cooler, and they were moist and richly scented from hours of passion. Sayid was tired and tender, and content to be spent and so near to Jacob, entangled together in the bed, their bed. It was still amazing to Sayid, every moment of laying and sleeping in a real bed after all these years. But then his own little cot was beyond precious and fine when his Jacob was in it.

 _We have been loving all day,_  Sayid thought with satisfaction. He lifted his head, smiling at tangled bedding, the pillows somehow across the room, the remains of meals plundered piled together on the floor.

Sayid looked down at Jacob, his eyes closed, drifting on his bliss, beautiful in the warm dance of the oil lamp beside them. And again Sayid was burning, remembering Jacob's movements, his body of smooth chalcedony, arching, falling into Sayid, wild against him, his eyes dancing, his hair finely feathered gold, all moving with the seasons of his passion. 

Jacob stirred, then opened his eyes, and they looked at each other with the relaxed eyes of perfect abandon, the soft gaze of lovers who find themselves well past every boundary and comfort that they had thought of as themselves. Jacob stretched against him, then settled again, his eyes closed.

Sayid was content, and happy. His thoughts did not change that, but he was aware of them.

 _I don't know why..._   _But I am done waiting._   _Waiting to know... to be like Jacob. To find out what that means_. Sayid felt himself outside of a place that he must enter to continue. But what action must he take?

 _What can I say to him?_ he put his finger on Jacob's lips, then cupped his hand against his cheek, lightly pushing back his hair.Sayid pictured Jacob insisting,  _Sayid, you must listen,_  as he explained everything _,_ pushing the answers on Sayid,  _forcing me to know_ _..._  he thought, smiling as he pictured Jacob's enigmatic face somehow concerned that he was not understood.

Sayid sat up, stretching and scratching. Jacob yawned, turning to push himself up, leaning against pillows that he arranged against the wall. He nestled his legs under Sayid's knees, happy as Sayid bent his legs comfortably over his, settling as he pleased.  _I can give dominance to him in l_ _ittle ways_ , Jacob thought, knowing that Sayid craved this.  _But I will always be the dominant one._ He watched as Sayid's face changed, eyes sharp, his lips tight with concentration. 

 _It is time to begin,_  Jacob thought.  _He_ _is ready to learn, we must begin._

The lamplight made shadows and moved the darkness around. An awareness of their silence grew and slipped between them. Their thoughts strayed to the edges of the room, their cooling sweat delicious under the searching hand of night, currents of night air slipping through the little windows in softly moaning whispers that joined with the gentle call of the distant waves. 

Sayid felt himself drifting up, looking down upon his new life. He caught the faint, croaking call of a night heron in flight, so that he imagined himself  _out there_ , floating on silent wings above the dark water, following the beach away... away, to who he was before he met Jacob, and became something else. 

Jacob watched as Sayid seemed to drift, then focused again on the room, then on him, looking at Jacob with calm expectation.

 _He has come so far..._ Jacob thought as he readied himself, preparing for the next step. He offered Sayid his eyes, steady and clear.

**_Let us begin._ Jacob felt a surge of energy as he took up the Island's business.**

**"My Sayee..." he said, reaching to Sayid as the hand of fate.**


	4. Resurgence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FINAL EDIT NOTES
> 
> Very late night of 16th, pre-dawn of the 17th day.
> 
> Sayid felt an entire island around the tiny womb of his destruction, his soul lost, leaving only a quiet of emptiness, a comfort of no feeling, a freedom from his forfeit will. In this moment, the first, fierce layer of the glowing embers of his evil had been slicked off and left behind, forever made as an answer to the evil of the one who had held him down, pushing on him as he beat and raped a child, as that one had himself been beaten and raped by another long before.

"Sayee..." Jacob whispered the nickname he had given Sayid, reaching to him, placing his hand over Sayid's eyes. When he took his hand away, Sayid found himself rising naked to the clouds, now above the Island somehow visible as though in daytime, looking down on it as he had on the beach with Jacob. He felt himself still rushing upward, the air around him cooler, the island below him getting smaller, until another island appeared below him, near and to the East of the larger, mostly hidden in misty clouds. The mist seemed to slip away, and he saw that it was a smaller island, similar to the larger, a mountainous island surrounded with white sandy beaches broken occasionally by a high ridge of clinging vegetation that ran down into the sea.

As he watched, the mist reappeared, closing around the island, rendering it invisible.

And Sayid saw ship after ship approaching the larger island, tall ships, clippers and galleons, merchant ships old and new, modern ships of metal and engines both steam and diesel. They approached the island, letting down their little boats with oars or outboards out beyond the breakers, making quick time to the island where the boats were dragged ashore, disappearing on the beach. Sayid did not see these men or their little boats again, and the mother ships faded away, leaving the island unchanged, her heart utterly silent, no longer subject to their desecration, their hateful stomping and avarice.

_There is a presence..._

And then Sayid was falling, soaring down to their island, his island, spinning slowly, though he still felt the bed and Jacob holding him, somehow slipping down between the mountain ridges, then under the forest canopy at a breathtaking speed. He was flying up the little stream, over the little pool and beyond. He was flowing like water, but up over the rocks and falls, just above the water, naked, as he was in the bed.

He saw the cave before he came to it, a resurgence of water coming forth from a hidden place. In the smallest of moments, Sayid saw the huge mountains climbing in vast ridges above it, realizing that this water was filtered down through internal channels and underground rivers, flowing to the heart of the mountains, the heart of the island. And in the smallest of moments he also saw the entire island from under the sea, both islands one beneath the water, going down down to the ocean floor, a huge mountain with two lush tips above the ocean world.

“Jacob,” Sayid called, ecstatic.

“I am here,” Jacob answered, and Sayid felt again that Jacob held him, and was rocking him just slightly with his face against him as he was caressed by the warming air. Then he was gone.

And Sayid was floating, moving so slowly as he pushed against the stream, into the cave, enveloping him at last. There was an immediate hush as the water flowed around him, silent. He was breathing underwater, deep into the mountain darkness where he was blind, but somehow the passage appeared to him as living stone closing around him, offering embrace. Sayid was becoming smaller as he moved deeper, deeper into the island, smaller, and smaller still, until he had left the water behind and found himself held by the hard rock, still at last, a body and a being, a point of consciousness in a womb of dark silence, his heart's desire. There was only return, and he would not. The island was a  _presence,_  the world a being moist and black. It became sterile, a hush of his breath, no sound for his ears.  _This is what the Island shows me... what I find here... what I am._  Sayid had gone to the end of his evil, evil that waits where there is no more _contact_ , no more give or receive, only stillness, a strange and costly victory. The last stop. The end of living destinations.

He could not move. He did not want to. _I will not return to the light_ , he vowed inside, imagining the pain that it would bring, the crying out in his mind.

**Sayid felt an entire island around the tiny womb of his destruction, his soul lost, leaving only a quiet of emptiness, a comfort of no feeling, a freedom from his forfeit will. In this moment, he felt again the first, fierce layer of the glowing embers of his evil which had been slicked off and left behind on a beach of the most tender memory, his Shannon laughing, alive under their tree, loving him. His tender need owned and then cast aside by James, and an answer to the evil of the one who had held him down as a child, pushing on him as he beat and raped as he himself had been beaten and raped by another long before Sayid was born.**

_I am still evil, I still know evil._ Sayid's mind seemed to burn as he thought of the balance in himself, and recognized where he was. _This is the place of evil, the place of pushing down_ , he thought as he pushed on the mountain's embrace, remembering how he surrounded his victims physically, binding them, scourging them. How he pushed down on them outside, and inside, so easy to hurt them, holding and twisting the sweeter places in them, damaging them, pushing down on them like an assassin at a victim's throat. He had learned to hurt them, to kill them, and he had learned to let them go, and it had made no difference to him.

Sayid could see himself clearly, every trade off, every devil's bargain. He had come to despise those who were good, who were weak. He rejected their life of _becoming_ , the tiny steps of those who reached for the ephemeral, grasping only spirit, an unseen nothing. He claimed what was _real_ with the stinging grasp of unbearable pain, making evil changes in others at his whim, claiming what could be had for free, at another's expense, or so it had seemed. Evil had felt so good to Sayid that he became saturated in it, a contracted, concentrated bliss, burning him, burning for more, blistering his soul, drawing him to evil again and again, each time building on the hot, molten pleasure of the last fevered passion, his own being contracting, rigid and hollow, patterned for evil by his lover, evil.

Sayid's mind was suddenly empty. He cried out inside as he felt something released in him, and with nothing to grasp, he felt himself stiffen with fear, lost in his own mind, suffocated by the very air of a _horrifying place_ , decay all around him, that which rots, that feeds on itself, the abomination that is buried, a hissing darkness. This was his lover, evil.

“Jacob!” he called out, lost in terror. And he was flailing against Jacob, his only help.  ** _It is still here... inside of me. Evil._**

Then he was shut away, waiting for her. His bride, evil, reached through the door of his living soul with rotting flesh and stench of long decay, grasping at the lock, seeking entrance. Sayid was suddenly rigid, he could not move. He was enveloped in a cold fear that made breathing a searching poison, that made the very air sting and claw at him. _She is finding the latch_ , he watched her arm, decaying, dead.... and then he heard her laughter. He realized then that he could not move, could not escape. He was held in place by his consciousness, hollowed out by his evil, trapped in a prison of his own making, and now bound by the unchallenged obsessions of evil, his ruler.

 _Her arm..._ His mind was surging with fear as she found the latch, pulling it back, releasing the door with a very quiet _shttnnggg_ sound that he felt and heard as spreading horror released and sounding through room after room of evil and darkness all around him, a sudden expanse of unseen dungeon.

**_There is only evil..._ **

The silent door swung, opening to her touch, and she was finding her way to him, stepping into the cell of his mind, his mind given to the cold horror, with no escape. And Sayid could not move, he was frozen and alive as she walked slowly to him, a rag of a wedding gown upon her, the veil over her face, her arms and legs moldy and rotten, the flesh pocked and peeling, a stench beyond comprehension moving ahead of her as she slowly lifted her veil.

 _Her face_... she laughed and cooed to him as she came closer, demure, calling him her husband in shy tones of pleasure, confessing her passion as she had awaited his touches, as he came to her at last.

Sayid could not move as she brought her face to him, gray and green with rot, oozing holes, and flesh ripping, hanging from her face.

Sayid heard his own scream, a long scream of aching terror.  _“Jacob! My Jay!!”_ He screamed, terrified beyond terror, grasping at Jacob, feeling Jacob laying upon him, holding him to the bed, rocking and rising with him, falling again with him, encircling him in his terror.

“ _I am here, Sayid_ ,” Jacob called to him.

Sayid was shaking under Jacob, his muscles aching, his throat dry. He had dug into his own palms with his fingernails, had dug into Jacob's back.

“Jacob, my Jacob...” he held to him, his eyes tightly closed. “Don't leave me, don't let go...” His body came to a rest under Jacob, his breath burning in him, as he waited, waiting for control of his own mind.

Sayid held Jacob tightly for several minutes as he was still unwilling to open his eyes. There were sounds, distant birds, the waves, but it was all a nightmare to him, and he could not awaken. He thought only of Jacob, his way back, pressing his face into Jacob's shoulder, shrouded by his scent. Sayid felt Jacob so close, loving him, offering him everything. Jacob offered him  _everything_... the purity and delight of a life that was not about controlling others, a goodness that now rested upon Sayid in every way, a life that was free, and required no tithe or tribute, no pieces of the soul as fuel, fanning the flames of life hotter, and hotter still, as a fool burns his own house for warmth.

 _Jacob... Jacob...._ Jacob was beautiful, he was good.  _What is good?_   There must be an answer, for here was good, this being called Jacob.  _Can I choose good?_  Sayid felt himself reaching, realizing then that he still doubted, and how this robbed him of any real confidence in himself or his true nature.

 _What is good?_  He did not know.

 

Sayid felt himself released at last. **The island like a mirror had held his evil up to him, and he had owned it, his reborn heart breaking, a slowly receding darkness scourging his newly reborn soul.**

 _I am good_ , Sayid thought, feeling the deep heaviness in his breast lifting, his heart open, emptied of fear, somehow soaring with a full measure of bliss at last. He tried to speak but could not. When at last he did speak, he heard the new currents in his life, the old ones changed, the signs of these in his voice.

“You are good,” he said aloud, for Jacob to hear, his eyes still closed.

Jacob pulled Sayid's head firmly onto his shoulder, rocking him, kissing his hair.

“You are good, my Sayid,” he said.

A lifetime was finished, a new one beginning. Sayid opened his eyes, and found himself safe, in the arms of his beloved. He was looking up, taking comfort in the familiar patterns on the rocky ceiling above, alive in the nimble light moving in a natural rhythm on the ceiling.

 _I am good,_ he thought as he drifted into delicious, sensual sleep.

 

* * *

 

NOTE: The nightmare sequence in this chapter is directly inspired by a scene in an old horror movie, [Dungeon of Harrow (1962)](http://youtu.be/MKerj4s2iQg?t=1h6m) at 1:20

 


	5. Loving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FINAL EDIT NOTES
> 
> Morning of the 17th day

Next day after resurgeance/dungeon visions

 

explicit m-m sex

* * *

 

Jacob complained in his sleep as Sayid slipped from his arms and their bed. He enjoyed the cool, smooth stone under his feet as he walked through the temple and out into the cool touch of night. A dark hour of morning found Sayid walking some ways along the familiar path that continued away from the temple, enjoying the stars and the feel of the night air on his moist skin. He stood, relaxing into release, while naked, wishing that he had a cigarette, something he had not desired for a long time.

"Say..." Jacob's voice was low on the wind, so it seemed to travel around him. Jacob began urinating, imagining it was on the same black tuft of grass in the dark, laughing that he found it pleasurable for their urine to mingle, even as they mingled sweat and spunk and spit, their breath and their sounds with their joined pleasure made against each other in loving.

Sayid turned and caressed Jacob in the darkness, his back and buttocks, his arms and stomach and chest, rendering him more sensitive to the touches of the wind. He enclosed Jacob in his arms, Jacob's hair against his face, feeling the wind play in their hair, the magical _shooshing_  rising and falling at his ears.

Jacob turned to Sayid and they kissed lightly, then they walked back to their home together, knowing well the little path in the darkness, the familiar lush growth of plants and trees fluttering in the breeze around them, a wild garden that grew, which witnessed and grew with their love.

Sayid felt wonder and contentment as they stepped over the threshold of their strange abode. As they settled back into the bed, Sayid found himself floating on the memory of his vision from yesterday, before it had pulled him under, dissolving hidden places that he had walled off in himself, abandoned, so unkind. _I did not mean to be unkind to myself,_ he thought. _I had to save these things for later, until I felt I could face them without being destroyed by them._ He knew this, that he was healing somehow, and that this made him feel free and completely new.

 _I am okay,_ Sayid thought, _I am better._ He caressed Jacob with affection, curling around him. _I have chosen this man, I have chosen good._ The room seemed to hold them with love as they held each other so, sharing their breath.

 _"I choose this..."_ Sayid whispered to the Island as they settled back into sleep.

 

Sayid awoke in Jacob's arms and nestled his back against him, then stretching, rolled with a quickening joy to face his lover, awake and waiting for him, smiling, his eyes sleepy, his hair rippling and tufted. Sayid ran his fingers through Jacob's hair, clasping Jacob's head lightly as he pulled his lips to his own, tasting a lingering kiss, a soft delight.

" _Sayee..._ " Jacob breathed when their lips parted.

" _Jayee_..." Sayid answered before their lips came back together, and they snuggled deeper together in the bed, the covers up over their ears, a private space opening between them, muffled and moist in the dark.

"I am okay, Jacob," Sayid whispered, his voice relaxed, caressing Jacob's face, touching his wet lips.

 _"Yes,"_ Jacob said.

Sayid felt himself undone a little by this shared reference to his vision, but Jacob did not let him slip away, pulling him back. "It is still working inside you," Jacob's voice was quietly reassuring. _"_ And you are here... with me." Jacob's voice was warm with desire.

They kissed again, and Jacob surprised his lover by sucking on Sayid's tongue, satisfied by his wild success in changing Sayid's breath with sudden passion, and denying for just a moment Sayid's insistence on sucking on Jacob's in return. 

Immediately Sayid sat up, turning to offer his erect penis to Jacob's mouth as he took Jacob into his own, so thrilled by this that he focused on his mouth upon Jacob's hardness as an exquisite pleasure, and slowed to a hypnotic movement and pressure that brought Jacob's testicles hard up against the base of his penis, ready for ejaculation. While still pleasuring him, Sayid expertly slipped his thumb and forefinger around the place between Jacob's testicles and his perineum and so gently squeezed, pushing Jacob's balls down a little, loosening them, making it much more difficult to ejaculate.

Jacob had taken Sayid in his hand lightly, speaking to his lover as Sayid began this oral pleasuring, and now he took Sayid into his mouth, connecting a heat that made their movements feed into each other. Jacob moaned with deep pleasure as he sucked and loved Sayid, matching Sayid's hypnotic movements so that their loving became about holding as much as moving, so excited to be holding each other in their mouths at the same time.

The sounds of loving filled their room and their hearts as they let go, as they went to it, having each other, taking from each other, their wild need and the vigor of morning overcoming their restrained motions.

Sayid grasped Jacob and continued his motions with his hand as he came, his head and body falling back as he cried out, "oh... oh... OH..." Jacob's mouth so insistent and loving as he swallowed Sayid's semen, leaving Sayid's penis in his mouth, as Jacob overcome by Sayid's mouth again on him, a passion on him as he too let his head drop back for his release, calling and calling, his voice hoarse, his body's complaint, that it was too much, and so just enough. Sayid swallowed his come, making careful motions of just the right pressure to continue his pleasure without layering too much sensation, milking so slightly at the end to receive the last of Jacob's spunk.

They lay together for a moment, holding each other with their mouths, tenderly, with no motion to jar their sensitivity and floating pleasure, feeling the hypnotic place of holding, of accepting each other, so delicious and fine.

Sayid let Jacob slip so slowly, lightly from his mouth, sighing as Jacob also did so with him. Then Sayid sat up, turning and falling so slowly into his place at Jacob's side, putting his forehead to Jacob's, his hand on Jacob's head, both with eyes closed, their breaths deep and settling. 

"I love you, Jacob... my Jacob," Sayid breathed onto Jacob's face, feeling his closed eyes so close, his breathing so close, his lips....

Their kiss was as much about sharing the taste of their spunk as about pleasuring and communication of love and desire.

"Sayee..." Jacob answered quietly as their lips parted, his voice low and still broken from calling out, still drifting on his pleasure.

Sayid wrapped his arms around Jacob and squeezed him gently, settling with Jacob's head on his shoulder, feeling Jacob's body warm and so pleasingly intimate upon him. 

 _My... my... my...._ he thought, drifting on his own deep pleasure and heavy relaxation.  _My Jacob..._


	6. We are needed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FINAL EDIT NOTES
> 
> Early dawn of the 17th day.
> 
> \----------------------------------  
> "My Jay... I know that I would have lost you, that you would have lost me if you came to me. And I know how hard that was for you, my love. I know you did that for me." Jacob was still crying silently, and Sayid held him, waiting to see if Jacob would speak.

Sayid awoke early, finding the bed empty. He stretched and rolled over to find that Jacob was dressed, sitting in his desk chair, waiting for him to wake up.

Sayid sat up, curious about a special alertness that he detected in Jacob. He found his clothes and dressed, then sat at the edge of the bed. _I will learn more today_ , he thought

Jacob spoke. "It has been many years, but once again, people have found the island and have come here for their own reasons. They have come ashore south of your people's camp. There is a possibility we must go there.”

He waited as Sayid absorbed this information. Sayid turned his head away, looking at the wall at the mention of the southern beach, where he had been used and broken. It was Jacob's turn to wait.

“I will,” Sayid said.

Jacob felt his admiration for Sayid visible in his eyes as they met.

“Sometimes people come here....” Jacob's voice changed, and Sayid felt him taking him into his confidence. “... they come because there is someone aboard their ship that the Island needs, usually someone who was on the Island once before, or who has been touched by someone who was. No matter which course the Island requires about intruders, we must be careful to look for this person or persons first. If we find such a person, we must go there to retrieve them. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Sayid said, ready to learn, to get it done, to be a part of the wider plan.

“Good,” Jacob said.

 _Good_... Sayid thought.

"Keep your eyes closed," Jacob instructed as he leaned forward and placed his open hand on Sayid's forehead, then slid his palm down over Sayid's eyes. "Eyes closed..." Jacob repeated as Sayid felt Jacob's hand withdrawn. Immediately he saw the ship at the breakers, and the small beach, hidden between the arms of two ridges, a beach that he knew south, south of Shannon's beach. He saw that a zodiac and another larger boat were pulled up on the beach. Men were unloading wooden boxes and assembling gear on a huge tarp staked far up the beach, set up with assorted folding tables, and with another tarp over it all. 

"What do you see?" Jacob asked. Sayid didn't answer right away. Somehow he already knew what Jacob was asking.

"There is no person that the Island has brought here," Sayid said.

"Yes," Jacob said. "You would know if there was, and you know that there isn't."

Jacob placed his palm over Sayid's eyes again, then reached with his other hand and took Sayid's hand. There was a strange sensation in Sayid at Jacob's touch. Immediately he saw the hidden beach again, the place of the distant ship at the breakers. The men, their belongings, the ship were all gone.

"The Island has moved them far away," Jacob whispered.

Sayid waited. He felt they were finished and wondered if he should open his eyes. But then he saw it, the heart on the tree, her eyes sparkling like the water, her hair whispy and moving with the breeze, her voice, her laugher, her slender hand in his own. Then he felt as though he fell from a sudden height, knocking the wind out of him. He looked around, feeling the despair, wholly unprepared to face the ugly despair of this place. He turned slowly, looking into the distance up and down the beach, then out to sea. The beach had been reshaped by the ocean currents, the wind and rain. He closed his eyes, remembering how his world had looked when he was camped there, broken, his trust in the world destroyed. His hands were shaking as he turned and touched the little heart carved into the tree, remembering her, needing that memory. 

Again Sayid felt the strange sensation where Jacob's hand was holding his own, Jacob's other hand still touching his face, this time bringing his awareness back to their home.

Sayid did not want to open his eyes. He was ecstatic. He felt his body filling with light, pushing outwards from inside of him, a profound rush of feeling and grace emanating from him. All through him this energy seemed concentrated, to fill him with a sort of strange fullness. It felt like this energy was pushing his being just a little more open, filling him with more and more energy so that his boundaries seemed to stretch. His heart was expanding as well, and he could feel little prickles as though a sort of binding over his heart was stretching.

 _This is the opposite of pushing down,_  Sayid thought. _This is opening._ Sayid felt it, the piece that had been a mystery, slipping into place.  _This is what it means to be good._

**Sayid felt Jacob had removed his hands, and opened his eyes, looking into Jacob's eyes so close, so hopeful it seemed to him. He asked himself again, so many times. _Why? Why was I broken?_ He still didn't know. But he was sure of Jacob.**

**"My Jay..." Sayid said softly, somehow knowing the words Jacob hoped for, and that they were true. "I know that you could not come to me."**

Jacob felt his heart leap, his immense feelings a sudden rush of inhalation as he covered his face with one hand, then fell onto Sayid's shoulder, feeling the tears come. Sayid waited, caressing Jacob's back, not experienced with tears. 

**"You chose me, Sayid," Jacob said at last, lifting his head. He watched as Sayid found and fit another compelling piece of redemption. "When all was lost, you chose to hope. You did not bargain or bind your spirit as you did when you were a boy and as a man. You reached out to _me_... and I love you for this, Sayid. You chose me. Because of this, we can be together. Because of this, you will eventually be like me."**

Sayid was aware of the closely muffled sounds of the sea as he looked around in wonder, knowing already that his knowledge of home had been changed, that he was to see it anew.

But Jacob was slipping back into the bed, pulling Sayid's hand, hugging Sayid to him as they slipped into the bedding. With a few sighs it was done, they were completely relaxed and ready for sleep, with a perfect luxury for each man to drift into sleep after strong emotions.

"This is a very strange place," Sayid whispered, finding sleep.

Jacob smiled as he flowed with his own currents of sleep,  _inside..._ caressed by the delicious feelings of the heart. 

 


	7. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Male masturbation, fantasy sex, sexual fantasy, alternate universe sex fantasy, oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, group sex
> 
> FINAL EDIT NOTES
> 
> 18th + day  
> Jacob is away

Sayid awoke alone. Jacob went out sometimes without awakening him. Sayid enjoyed thinking about him while he was away.

Now Sayid enjoyed claiming both sides of the bed and balling up all the blankets, tossing all the pillows exactly where he wanted them. He breathed in Jacob's smell on his pillow, then napped on it. He reached to the bedside table, then smoked his herb cigarettes in bed, knowing Jacob would smell them and scold him when he returned. He urinated in one of the bottles Jacob kept for water so he didn't have to get out of bed, sighing with an intense pleasure as he overcame a life of training his body to never piss while in the bed.

He dozed for hours, dreaming of Jacob, each time awakening with more and more of the neurotransmitters for sleep, a dopey wash, a internally communicated state that saturated his brain and his body.

He eventually got up, and rifled through some of Jacob's things. He looked at Jacob's journal, touching the worn cover lovingly, but did not open it. He took one of the sheets of Jacob's drawing paper and drew a pornographic image on it of a recent sexual position that Jacob would recognize, smiling, then laughing. 

He tried to play Jacob's flutes, but their design eluded him.

Sayid danced around their room naked, making obscene gestures, then ran into the temple, dancing about with a token air of reverence. He felt that the divine was watching him with delight.

He was a little more cautious about pilfering precious supplies.  Jacob had built up their supplies so that Sayid did not have to gather or fish, as he was not yet proficient at either.  Jacob had some items that he had mysteriously obtained away from the island, though he had not yet explained how or why. Sayid knew exactly what he wanted, the dried dates, a saturated, almost crunchy sweetness. He tried to eat only a portion, but settled on not eating them all. He made a tray of food and set it on top of his books beside the bed, looking forward to falling back into the luscious bed, to laze again for hours.

He stood for a time at Jacob's loom, studying the designs, finding nothing familiar. He had never examined it or touched the loom in front of Jacob, and somehow knew not to interrupt him when he went to it, as though it drew him at the right moment. He touched Jacobs tools with affection, remembering the movements of Jacob's hands at the loom.

He thought of Jacob, missing him, his smile, his eyes, his gentle energy and special way of touching Sayid, a sort of pushing his palm along his body, _feeling_ his skin, communicating with how he was made, underneath. It reminded him of petting a cat, and made him wish that he could purr. Jacob's language of touch sent him into a contented sort of circling, inward, becoming Jacob's focus, taking his place at the center of Jacob's life and joy.

Jacob was somewhere without him, and Sayid guessed that he was away from the island, picturing him walking in Western clothes, other humans around him. _Jacob is safe_ , he needed these words. _I am safe_. There was only one other who could come here, and he felt sure Jacob would not permit that, at least for a time. Sayid knew how to get to the beach and the rest of the island, if necessary, without the arch in the rock.

Jacob had focused on teaching Sayid the daily rites of the temple. He explained that the worship of the divine must be tended to daily in the temple unless it was physically impossible. There were then special rites to perform upon returning if this were to happen. Keeping faith with the divine, he called it. The _shakti_ came and went as she pleased, but she must always find them faithful in their worship of and tending to the emblems of the divine.

Sayid went to the little stream near the temple and performed a ritual bath in the fresh air of morning. He felt himself focusing, settling into preparation for the hypnotic rites of worship. Every time he performed them, he became more saturated with his own longing for God, for the divine in the form of his beloved, calling him to him.

Sayid carefully cleaned the temple, his newly bathed feet bare on the smooth floor, respectfully "bathing" the murtis with sprinkles of water he blessed and offered with love, preparing them for worship. He swept the entire temple, reciting the _mantras_ to the rhythm of his work, saturating every corner with worship and love.

Sayid then changed into the special, plain cotton clothes, white, and a cherished saffron colored scarf. He waved the lights, fragrant charcoal incense and other items before each of the _thangas_ and the three _murtis_ , repeating the _mantras_ and _pranaming_ before each one. When he was done, he could feel the air sparkling with energy, with love and bliss that he also felt in full measure in his heart.

 

* * *

 

Sayid returned to the room with a special task in mind. He wanted to love himself, and had not done so for some time. He carefully put the ritual clothes away, and taking up the little flask of oil and a larger flask of water, he sat upon Jacob's stool near the rays of morning sun coming in from the little windows above, so that he could see his own body clearly, golden in the warm light.

He shook his head as he undid the knot in his hair, shaking it out, feeling the sensual touch of it on his face and shoulders. He lifted his hair off his shoulders, letting it fall again in a delicious cascade of heavy locks. He sprinkled water on himself, as though preparing himself for worship. then admired his chest, running his hand through the hair there and on his belly, the tiny prickle of the slowly drying water sending a wave of relaxation through his body. He slid his hand down his belly to the thick hair _there_ , slipping his hand flat with his fingers on either side of his cock, pushing firmly, slipping his balls up on his fingers, grasping the base of his hardening cock.

_I am alone..._

He stood and threw several of the cushions onto one of the rugs, and lay out upon them, leaning against the bed, drinking the water and feeling his body, what he wanted of himself.

He took up the oil and poured some into his hand, rubbing it onto himself, letting his head fall back so his body arched, pulling the skin around his cock and balls slightly, increasing their sensitivity. He stroked the oil up and down, applying it to all parts of his cock, focusing on the compelling sensations there, letting them move his body and breath.

Immediately he took up his one of his favorite fantasies.

_Sayid lived under the sea, and could swim very quickly and with great agility, like a seal. He lived in a beautiful underwater world with other such beings, male and female. Sex was simply a part of swimming there, there was swimming without sex, and swimming with sex, and the transition was seamless. Sex was initiated by simply having sex._

_He imagined himself swimming with his companions, full of light-hearted fun and the constant delight of their twirling, swirling pleasure in the sensuous water, brushing against one another, kissing underwater, fondling each other's genitals, playfully entering orifices with fingers and sudden erections, bringing each other pleasure._

_He imagined a man swimming up from behind and entering him smoothly as they swam like dolphins, leaping out of the water, then back under, curling around each other, his hand on Sayid's cock, Sayid's jism spraying into the water, accepting his lover's inside of him._

_He imagined swimming alongside a voluptuous woman, long hair swirling like a mermaid as he circled her, swimming around her over and over, running his hands around and around her irresistible, floating breasts, pinching her nipples, making her laugh. He clasped her to him suddenly, entering her as she arched away from him, pulling his mouth onto her breasts. She laughed, a sweet tinkling, then a frothy bubbling as she writhed in ecstasy from his pleasuring, as he slid in and completely out of her over and over, as they slowly, slowly sank through the warmer water to the cooler, silent water below._

_Her sighs and calls in the silent water were hypnotic and primal, her muscular body jerking about as she orgasmed, reminding him of a jellyfish. He stayed in her, pushing hard and quick as he also came, pulling out to see the jism again spurting into the water, a special sort of accomplishment._

Sayid was aware of their room around him as he heard the sounds of his vigorous stroking, making the groans that went with his tensing body, arching against the bed.

He slowed a little, enjoying the warmth and hum of pleasure that he felt throughout his body. He had felt his pleasure at the beginning building very slowly from a deep place, and knew that he would last a long time. How delightful to be so sensitive, to pull on himself just as he liked, with just this much pressure in each place, changing his motions with his pleasure, hearing his own breathing with a repetitive, silky “uh” with each stroke on his cock.

He brought more oil on his hand to his penis, anointing it, worshiping it. He loved his erect penis, silky brown under the oil, “uncut” as Jacob called it. He loved to play upon the soft foreskin as he stroked, feeling an added dimension to his pleasure that he could not imagine doing without. His pubic hair was jet black, like his hair, a worthy nest. His penis was very brown, more brown than his skin, like an exotic fruit, a being in its own right, proud and full of surprises.

Sayid felt himself lifting inside, a sort of rushing feeling of concentrated pleasure that demanded his movements, his dance of pleasure, as he slipped back into his fantasy.

And Sayid felt his imagination and pleasure surging...

_They were rushing about as he was slipping his penis into women and men, their mouths, their vaginas, their anuses were all available to him as he pleased, as his were to them._

He was pulling hard on himself, faster, then faster still. His breath became desperate, needing what was promised by the pleasure, the building pleasure that needed to be released.

_In a delightful moment of swirling about each other, his companions all orgasmed at the same time, the men squirting into the water, the women grasping their vaginas, making a show of their secretions, all calling and sighing in tandem, releasing a torrent of rising bubbles, tumultuous, racing to the surface._

Sayid had slid away from the bed and was arching upon the cushions, his hand in full motion, quick and quick and QUICK as he came, groaning loudly, groaning, then sighing with passion and pleasure as his bluilding sensation crested and he spurted high onto his stomach and chest, his balls so tight that he grabbed them with his left hand, pulling them against himself firmly, prolonging the spasms in his testicles and the base of his penis.

 

Sayid lay without thinking for several minutes, enjoying a profound relaxation a little different than the one he experienced with Jacob.

 _Jacob..._ he thought, missing him. How hard it is to be apart, to not be able to give to him, to watch over him.

 _Hurry back to me, my love..._ he prayed. _I cannot bear this...._

_Jay Jay Jay... my Jay._

 


	8. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explicit m-m sex, fellatio, anal sex
> 
> FINAL EDIT NOTES:  
> 19th + day
> 
> Jacob returns

Sayid sat at the desk, working on some maps and drawings he had undertaken in Jacob's absence.

 _Oh dear god, let him bring coffee..._ he thought, wondering where he was, what he was doing.

Sayid looked up, listening carefully.... _yes!_ Again he heard the familiar whistle and immediately he was flying though the temple, “Jay... Jay... Jay...” as he ran down the steps and into Jacob's arms, almost knocking him down. They squeezed each other, laughing as brothers, then passionate as they hugged and kissed and tried to reinvent kissing to express their love and joy.

Jacob had dropped his shoes and several bags behind him, and Sayid helped him gather them up, carrying them through the temple to their home. Jacob touched his heart, closing his eyes as he greeted the deities, knowing they would understand if _this time_ he did not come to them first.

They dropped the bags and Jacob's pack onto the floor near the desk, Jacob's funny hat on the chair, and began pulling their clothes off themselves and each other, laughing and playing at hurrying. Sayid jumped up and smacked the low place on the ceiling, his favorite, proud symbol of his prowess, his genitals swinging wildly. Jacob lost his usual reserve, and sat on his hat, sideways on the desk chair, dropping his face onto his folded arm, laughing then coughing loudly as he slid off his pants. Sayid grabbed Jacob's pants impatiently, slipping them off of him in one motion.

They jumped up and ran into each other as they tumbled onto the bed, rolling, and rolling again, squeezing each other tightly, smelling each other, taking their feel of each other, of their hair, their furry chests, noses in armpits, then hair, then noses together, foreheads together, their thirst for each other slowly quenched by the full contact of their naked bodies.

Sayid could smell coffee beans, and he kissed Jacob over and over, “mmmm my love mmmm you brought me coffee... mmmmmmm” he cooed, pleasuring Jacob by praising him for pleasing him.

"I can smell cigarettes,” Jacob chided, and Sayid felt sorry. _“My love...”_ Jacob said after a moment, forgiving him, kissing him lightly.

They were quiet then, kissing gently, with a slow rhythm of settling upon each other, remembering who they were together before they took up the doing of it.

After awhile, they slipped outside, blinking in the bright sunlight, Sayid walking gingerly up the trail, wishing his feet were as tough as Jacob's. They relieved themselves, then went to fill their flasks at the special stream. Jacob touched his heart again as he knelt and put his fingers to the water for a few seconds before dipping into the clear water.

They were quiet as they walked through the temple, quiet as they walked through their room, as they came down to each other in the bed, searching each other's eyes for the love and delight they felt in that moment, then nestled close, down into the covers, petting each other, sighing with relief and pleasure.

 

Jacob awoke and found that Sayid was on his back, sleeping soundly. He smiled, then slipped from the bed. Sayid's feet and lower legs were uncovered, and Jacob was drawn to the hidden place above them. Slipping carefully onto the bed between Sayid's legs, placing his hands carefully on either side of his pelvis, Jacob slipped his head under the covers, and very slowly and softly took Sayid into his mouth.

Sayid stirred, but did not awaken, reaching down to scratch at his balls. Jacob moved away, smiling as Sayid settled again, breathing loudly. Jacob waited, remembering a funny moment from his trip, then listening again as Sayid's breathing changed. Sayid had become very stil, and Jacob knew that he was in the place between dreams, when all movement and thought stopped.

Jacob felt that he had a private moment with Sayid's penis then, in a way he had never felt before. He lifted the covers with his head, looking at his dark brown cock from his vantage point at his thighs, blowing on the moist places around it, watching Sayid's scrotum lift and curl slightly. He enjoyed the salty scent from the secret places, remembering all the times he had thought of them when Sayid was near, and far.

Finally he moved up again, and carefully slipped the head of Sayid's penis between his lips, gently pursing them upon it, then slowly slowly sucked Sayid's penis into his mouth. He felt it beginning to harden before Sayid responded, sighing as he was awakened by his lover's lips on his penis, a visceral and exquisitely pleasurable surprise.

“Ohhh....” Sayid moaned, clearly overcome by an instantaneous intensity that was usually built up, surging through him while deeply relaxed, and trusting all with his lover near.

Sayid was suddenly very hard with the special hardness of great excitement, and Jacob strove to match this with a special pleasuring, making new motions and noises, sucking between his tongue and the top of his mouth without his lips touching, pulling with his lips around the glans of Sayid's penis as though to lengthen it, shaking his head slightly. He added more and more saliva until he was sucking liquid against his tongue, then swallowed suddenly, plunging the entire length of Sayid in his mouth, holding him there, completely still, unable to breath until he slipped off a little, then back on after a quick breath.

Sayid was far away, somewhere inside where he was surrounded by pleasure as his penis was surrounded by Jacob, hot and sticky moist. His moans became gasps, and Jacob pushed him a little further, moving up and down in a steady rhythm, lips tight, the motions that would send Sayid over the edge if he didn't stop.

He stopped, and Sayid's moans were a loud complaint, the cry of the newly bereft.

 _“Jay... Jay... I need you now...”_ he whispered low, as though from inside. Jacob thought that Sayid might get angry with him soon, and smiled, waiting.

Suddenly Sayid sat up a little, shaking off his passion. "Jacob!" he chided, his voice serious.

Jacob said nothing, pointing to the little bottle of oil on the bedside table, then relaxing back on his heels, waiting.

Sayid glared at him, then relented, taking the little flask of oil from the bedside table, holding it out to Jacob with a look that meant business, tempered by a knowing smile.

Jacob smiled back at him for just a moment, still tormenting him, then took the oil and covered his own erect penis with a generous amount, handing the bottle back to Sayid, who started to turn as he put it back on the little table.

“No,” Jacob said, pushing Sayid onto his back, then lifting Sayid's legs up until they were on his belly, putting his weight on them, guided his penis to the tight opening, using his finger to push some of the oil inside.

“Oh god,” Sayid said as Jacob pushed into him, holding Sayid's legs up, his knees over Jacob's shoulders. Jacob stroked long and slow inside him for several strokes, keeping Sayid's hand away from his penis.

He stopped again. _“Don't you dare come yet, Say,”_ he said, his voice low, a warning and a command.

Sayid was bucking against him, and Jacob held firm, letting Sayid move on him as he pleased. He began stroking again, pushing hard into Sayid, pushing against his legs so that Sayid folded up with Jacob's weight on him, giving Jacob full access to his tightness.

Again Sayid reached his hand to his penis, and Jacob took his hand, grabbing his other hand, laying full out on him with Sayid's hands clasped by Jacob above his head.

Jacob stroked steady, with long thrusts that ended with an audible slap against Sayid, lifting and curling Sayid's body with each stroke.

 _Now we are floating,_ Jacob thought, then gasped from his pleasure as he looked down so closely at the slowly changing expressions of ecstasy on Sayid's face, his lips parted, his head moving very slowly, a little to each side.

Finally grasping Sayid's penis as if it was his own cock, he began to stroke it with his oily hand, careful to be somewhat amateur about it, which clearly sent Sayid into a place of pure frustration.

 _“Fuck me!”_ Sayid begged. _“Jay... my Jay... Make me come..."_

Sayid opened his eyes and Jacob slowed, loving Sayid with his eyes, cooing at him as Sayid looked at Jacob with a look of pure heat and animal need, with the promise of a sexual retribution implicit in his gaze.

Immediately Jacob began thrusting with full strokes that pushed Sayid's body up over and over, expertly milking Sayid as he was arching in a stiffened silence for several moments of complete ecstasy and pleasure.

“Come for me, Say...” Jacob said quietly as he pushed further up onto his own knees, grasping Sayid's legs tightly, giving him exactly the stroke and speed that Sayid needed most, coordinating his hand and his fucking.

Sayid pushed against Jacob's motions as he came, his loud, growling moan interrupted over and over by the rhythm of Jacob's hard driving movements. Then Sayid was jerking and twisting on Jacob as he came, Jacob suddenly pushing even deeper, tighter against him between strokes, feeling the pleasure moving through Sayid's body also moving on his cock.

 _I have returned..._  Jacob thought with a burst of passion, his breath rising, then expelled forcefully as he bent forward in ecstasy. He grasped his own cock as he came, pulling out of Sayid as he sought the next wave of pleasure with his hand, his body undone and falling forward as he moaned. He watched with pleasure as his stream jumped onto Sayid, adding his own come to the im a xsd qsive quantity of Sayid's milky white semen, beautiful on his golden skin, nestled in his belly and chest hair, rising and falling as Sayid's breathing was flung by pleasure wild and deep.

Sayid felt his mind slowly searching, constructing his world as though he was just now arising from sleep, forming the sensations of several minutes into  _now_ , making with his breath the sounds of return from an unexpected journey.


	9. The longest journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FINAL EDIT NOTES
> 
> 20th + day  
> Morning brought the need in Jacob to rise early and begin. He managed to slip from Sayid's arms, his skin already feeling the water flowing around him as he walked up to the stream for his ritual bath. He pictured Sayid waking while he was gone, then going back to sleep,   
> thinking this day was no different from any other.  
> Jacob bent to Sayid's foot and kissed it lightly... this part is for me, he thought as he let himself feel what this day meant to him, after so many years of preparation.

Sayid would not let go of Jacob. All night he kept Jacob close, pulling his body hard against him, his arms loose around him whenever Jacob moved, then tight again, sighing back into Jacob in his sleep.

Morning brought the need in Jacob to rise early and begin. He managed to slip from Sayid's arms, his skin already feeling the water flowing around him as he walked up to the stream for his ritual bath. He pictured Sayid waking while he was gone, then going back to sleep, **thinking this day was no different from any other.**

Jacob carried flasks for water, a little brush of natural bristles, a small flask of oil, and the special basin they used for ritual bathing of the _murtis_ , and for when it was too muddy or rainy to bathe in the stream. He walked along the stream to the little pool, stepping into the water, craving ritual. He set everything on the large flat boulder at the head of the pool, then submerged himself, taking in the sweet energy of the Island nectar that flowed as water. The water curled softly against his face and shoulders in a widening current, his feet craving the coolness, grasping with feeling the smooth and concave rocks below, scoured by the water. When he stood, he felt the purification rearranging his inner life, keeping his essence available for his role. Putting his fingertips in the water, with eyes closed, he worshiped the divine as the heart of the Island, touching with love that love which flowed from that secret and mysterious place, not really a place at all.

He turned to dip the glass flasks into the water, holding them by the net carriers he had made for them, pushing them down as they filled. He submerged for several moments the little flask of oil, a cork stopper protecting the contents, smiling at the sometimes purpose of it as he slipped it into the netting with one of the flasks. He then submersed the little brush, adding it to the other flask's netting. Holding one each in his hands, he smiled to think of these four items as a little kit of sorts.

And Jacob was surging with bliss, and he moaned, wavering slightly, feeling the special glow in his heart of divine energy rising through him, preparing him for something he would only do once in his long life.

He placed the metal basin under the water then, careful to keep it completely submerged for some time. When he was sure the basin was pure, he held it carefully as he gathered all into it, feeling the items charged with divine grace, walking back to the temple with the even, unhurried steps of _the one who knows._

Jacob had spent extra time in the temple before his journey off island, cleaning and tending to the beautiful furnishings, waving a special charcoal _dhoop_ incense, a fragrance so intoxicating that he was sure the divine rushed from all of the three worlds to receive it. He had waved the tiny oil lamps arranged on a tray before all the images of the Beloved, lost in bliss as he poured through the _mantras_ over and over, finding himself in face down _pranam_ in front of Lord Krishna, who captivated him with his irreverent delight and boundless love, and how he sometimes lovingly offered playful surprises for Jacob, such as keeping offered flowers blooming for several weeks instead of days.

Today, as Jacob drew the divine with his devotion, worshiping and loving God with sound and motion, fragrance and flame, he asked over and over for the openness to grace, to be the container and the mirror of the grace he would share with Sayid. At last he _pranamed_ before Mother Durga, and had her _darshan_ , he worshiped the divine as Durga Ma, who comes in all power and sets things right. As a protector, Jacob knew that he must always have her power and protection, and on this day Jacob repeated her mantras with a special surge of the profound love that he felt for the Beloved as Durga.

He then lay before Lord Shiva, having his _darshan_ for some time, his mind empty except for the _mantras_. Rising, he touched the Lord's feet and bowed respectfully as he lifted the special pashmina wool and silk prayer shawl offered at the feet of the Lord for several weeks now, placed there when Sayid still did not know of this place. He placed the shawl around his own neck, waiting but a moment, then choosing to begin.

Walking back through the temple, he felt that _this_ was the time, that all of those countless times of walking towards his little room and his empty bed were just practice, a preparation.

There were morning shafts of bright sun coming in from the little windows above as Jacob entered their room, enjoying the absolute silence of his bare feet on polished stone. He found Sayid laying on his back, an arm above his head, eyes unfocused, a thoughtful look as he lay uncovered on the bed. Jacob stopped, taken by his beauty, so that they were both absolutely still in the last moments of _this_ slipping around them, the sounds of the day muffled, the light already gentle in Jacob's heart with the promise of newness.

Jacob moved as one entranced, placing the basin and the water near the bed on the floor, the flask of oil and the little brush on the bedside table. He rolled the beautiful rug away, revealing the polished stone beneath. Then he went to his work corner, taking his little stool and returning to place it next to the bed.

Sayid looked at him, completely relaxed.

“My love,” Jacob began. Sayid found the ecstasy in Jacob's face and sat up, taking in these arrangements, attentive and curious as he sat on the edge of the bed, his feet on the cold stone.

“To serve the island, we take up our armor, my Say...” Jacob began simply. “You already wear this armor, but you do not control it. I have kept it about you all of these years.”

Sayid was moved by this, _feeling_ it. As someone who had not been protected as a child, who had protected himself at the cost of his own vulnerability all of his life, this embrace was something profound, a certain burden lifted, one that would never return.

“I know that you are ready to learn, Sayid. But I will always ask, so tell me it is so,” Jacob waited as Sayid nodded, then said “Yes.”

“Good,” Jacob motioned for Sayid to move forward a little on the bed, sliding the basin next to his feet.

“My Sayid... That which you must learn, to find and to control the armor, is to feel the Island in your body, in your feet, in your feet upon it.”

Sayid looked down at his feet, moving them just a little. “Let me make all the movements, Say...” Jacob instructed. He looked at Sayid's feet, so unique, so beautiful to him. His love for Sayid filled him with a thrilling warmth, a divine desire to hold him up, to show him how to make of himself more, and more, forever.

Jacob closed his eyes. He pictured the sacred circle around them, made of light, a container for light. He called to the Heart of the Island, an energy that surged up from below, filling the circle, a luminescence spinning slightly as it formed a pattern in the special magnetism of the island. Jacob bowed inside to this light, worshiping it with great reverence.

Sayid watched as Jacob sat erect on his stool, eyes closed, his hand at his heart. He seemed to soften from within, and Sayid was moved by his beauty, an eternal presence.

Jacob opened his eyes, smiling at Sayid. He slipped from the stool, kneeling before him. He took Sayid's right foot, gently lifting it as a treasure, and placed it in the basin, swirling the water around it lightly.

Sayid was giddy. He began to fall back, and Jacob caught his hand while Sayid righted himself. “What is it, Jay?” he asked. _"I am floating..."_

Jacob took his other foot with special emphasis, knowing Sayid would be overcome when it touched the water. He held Sayid's hand firmly as he dipped Sayid's left foot into the cool water.

“ _Jay... Jay...”_ Sayid called as he slipped past so many places that he had thought of as himself until there was nothing, a place of turning, of return, rising through black silk, saturated with a secret darkness that moved.... _that breathed_.

Jacob waited until Sayid could sit up on his own, then took the little brush of soft bristles and gently washed Sayid's feet, rinsing them thoroughly in the basin. Sayid gazed at Jacob, seeing how perfect he was, how unique and totally his. He felt that he could not look away, entranced with the changes in Jacob's lips, his eyes, in the movements of his body. Then Sayid had slipped back inside of himself, opening, done and undone by this experience of sensual delight, captivated by the touch of his lover.

Jacob raised his eyes and looked at Sayid with only love. Jacob was aware of time spinning around the center place, where everything and every time took up no space, did not move or change. _We are this, and one_ , he thought, wanting his beloved to feel all of this bliss, and more, _more_.

Jacob bent to Sayid's feet, his palms on top of each golden foot in the clear water, closing his eyes. He realigned his energy as  _intention_ around Sayid, preparing to offer the gift it to him as his equal. He pulled the silk shawl from his shoulders, then lifted Sayid's right foot from the water, draping the soft shawl over it, rubbing and drying his foot very slowly, communicating his love for Sayid with his movements, careful to dry all of his foot and in between his toes. He felt the power of the island waiting to flow into Sayid's feet, his feet treading upon the Island, always under protection, always protecting.

Jacob bent to Sayid's foot and kissed it lightly... _this part is for me_ , he thought as he let himself feel what this day meant to him, after so many years of preparation.

He placed Sayid's foot upon the floor, upon the Island. He offered himself, as he had offered all of his time, work and skill in choosing and preparing Sayid, now offering him to the Island.

Jacob took up Sayid's left foot, drying it carefully, then kissing it for a long time with great feeling, his lips soft and then firm against Sayid's foot, pursed with pleasure as he placed this foot upon the Island, resting on the floor of ancient rock. Then he moved the basin away, feeling the ritual complete, the last moments a certain potential.

 _This part is for me...._ Jacob smiled as he took up the oil, uncapping it, pouring a liberal amount into his hand. Taking Sayid's right foot, he gently smoothed the oil onto it, carefully saturating his entire foot, anointing it, whispering the _mantras_ as he set himself to a great purpose, making Sayid his own. 

The fragrance of the oil arose between them, a sweet smell of island gardenias mixed with the thick softness of the coconut oil, _sattvic_ and pure. Sayid felt his whole being caught on the fragrance, lifted by it, undone by the air, an exotic strangeness.

Jacob carefully set Sayid's foot down, and pouring more oil, lifted Sayid's left foot and lovingly smoothed and saturated it with the fragrant oil, rubbing it over and over, setting Sayid's foot down with a long, slow motion of _meaningfulness_. He took up the silk again, rubbing Sayid's feet over and over, feeling the purpose of the ritual taking shape.

 _And now..._  Jacob pictured his own protection over Sayid like a sheath sliding upwards, opening at the bottom where Sayid's feet now touched the place they both thought of as the Island.

Sayid felt a change in his body, and reached out to Jacob instinctively.

Jacob smiled, and said the words that were a song from his heart, “find the Island, Sayid, _underneath._ Find the Island... _inside.”_

Sayid felt an energy that he thought of as his body floating somehow, no longer tethered to him. He moved about inside, unsettled, needing something.... when he was overcome by a memory from when he was a boy. He had peered down a well, and it had seemed to him then that the darkness below had reached out to him, connecting with him, so that his entire being was suddenly still and sourced from that mysterious darkness, not below, but _inside_.

He felt this feeling again, and though his eyes were open, he saw in his mind's eye a benevolent energy moving as the center of the island, far below, a presence loving him, reaching out to him, filling his entire being with love and bliss. He experienced this presence flowing into him though his feet, claiming him, protecting him, loving him.

Sayid looked at Jacob with his eyes wide, the eyes of a profound worthiness, a redemption that has slipped in from _forever_ , that would hold him forever.

“My Jay...” Sayid said, for now everything was still, time itself a steady  _shoosh_ at his ears. Sayid found Jacob as a soft stillness in the swirling pass of his life, passing, passing, and now a part of him, making him over, changing what would never again be changed alone.

 _“My Jay...”_  Sayid said, for he found Jacob _inside_.

There was a bed underneath him as he sat, but Sayid was held up by something that was alive, alive as the bed, alive instead of the bed.

And then, in his mind, Sayid saw a golden energy surging, flowing up from the dark depths of the ocean floor, moving, moving up through the huge underwater mountain, faster and closer, then bursting through the island and up through Sayid's spine, a shower of sparks that exploded through the top of his head, filling him with so much ecstasy that his head dropped back and his mouth opened as he was completely filled with an eternal portion of loving bliss.

And in his mind, Sayid saw the golden shower of sparks from his head burst into a huge spray, golden and silent in an inner world of sacred presence, still and dark. And in the midst of the golden sparks, he saw Lord Shiva dancing as the  _Nataraj_ , the Lord's dance of consciousness, by which He creates everything that is.

And still the sparks continued upward, outward, as they became a golden stream of divine energy that sailed out from Sayid into space, far above the earth, past galaxies, past all stars and galaxies, then slowly turning, it began its journey all the way back to him, turning and rushing up through his spine again, over and over.

And in his mind's eye, he was aware of a sweet presence that was close to him, in him, that smiled at his bliss, happy and partaking of it, and he knew this presence was Jacob. He felt Jacob's love flowing through him, a sweet energy with a certain, recognizable  _taste_.

He felt that Jacob closer than close. Jacob, his lover, waiting for him at the heart of the world, welcoming Sayid as though returning from a very long journey, one he began too long ago to remember. Jacob, his lover, who whispered with great love, the sound somehow in Sayid's heart, a place of sacred stillness. 

_Someday... you will be like me._


	10. Breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FINAL EDIT NOTES:
> 
> Sayid is still being remade by Kundalini
> 
> Very early morning of the 21st plus day

Sayid had fallen immediately into a deep sleep, and Jacob held him, containing his energy as it was released and took shape, as the goddess _kundalini_ _shakti_  continued to make Sayid anew.

Then Sayid felt his lover's arms slip around him, turning him to face him on his side, pulling the covers up as they liked, foreheads together. The cave was completely dark, so that they only knew each other through sounds and touch, smells and taste, all of which felt new to Sayid as he floated back into sleep.

Jacob kept vigil as the minutes, then hours passed, until Sayid reached around him, running his hand up Jacob's back, his fingers continuing up through Jacob's hair, holding Jacob's head lightly, pressing Jacob's forehead firmly against his own, so happy to be close to him. Sayid felt himself still riding a long wave of bliss, cresting and cresting, but not breaking. He took a deep breath, his pleasure in breathing in Jacob's breath with his own, letting his breath flow out long, opening to the bliss, letting it change him.

“ _What are you, Jay...?”_ He whispered, hearing the wonder in his own voice, the change in it amplified by the darkness.

Jacob snuggled his face against Sayid's cheek, bringing his lips to Sayid's ear, eyes closed as he breathed out, a long _huuuuuuu..._ as breath, passing from him into Sayid's being as both air and sound.

Sayid felt Jacob's breath at his ear now like liquid swirling through him as an expanding wave, curling and dancing as liquid through liquid, an intimate current flowing from Jacob's inner state, profoundly relaxed and playful, with no limitations. _He is old, so old... My Jay..._

Sayid felt Jacob's love for him mixed with an endless joy, and Jacob's delight in awakening Sayid's consciousness with his own.

Then Sayid heard a divine tinkling sound at his ear, unbelievably beautiful. His ear felt as though it were expanding from the inside outward, opening his hearing to this subtle sound.

Jacob kissed him, and kissed his eyes, his cheeks, his hands. Sayid slipped deeper into Jacob's arms, slipping back under the waves of bliss as sleep.


	11. A little more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FINAL EDIT NOTES:
> 
> 22nd day +
> 
> Jacob and Sayid fly to the mountaintop, then to the small island. James appears at the door carved like their own cave, with no expression, waiting. Jacob covers Sayid's eyes and they are back in their cave.

Sayid awoke slowly, first aware of the sounds of the wind strong outside, the smell of the coming rain. He felt Jacob still fast against him, curled around him, containing him. Foreheads together, he breathed in Jacob's breath, warm and close, then opened his eyes and found Jacob looking at him, his eyes so close.

They were eye to eye, expressionless faces, waiting for what was next.

 _It could be anything_ , Sayid thought. _We can be anything._  He felt completely free.  _He is waiting for me, h_ _e will follow my lead._

Sayid brought his hand to Jacob's face, moving his own back a little, watching Jacob's face as he cupped it with his hand, loving Jacob's eyes closing with pleasure as Sayid stroked his face lovingly, Jacob's neck moving so easily as he pulled Jacob's cheek against his own, encircling his body with his arms, as Jacob encircled him.

Then Sayid rolled back a little in the bed, feeling his body still weak, but his mind clear, his voice still his own.

"Eat this," Jacob said, unwrapping a foil covered bite of chocolate truffle for him. Sayid let him put it in his mouth, amazed by an explosion of delicious dark chocolate with the slight bite of bitterness filling his senses, his eyes widening, causing Jacob to laugh.

Sayid sucked on  the remains of the chocolate, eyes closed, his face contorting with pleasure. He opened his eyes again to Jacob's happy smile. He saw in Jacob's smile a happiness that went with something that Jacob had waited for, that was a long time in coming.

“My Jay...' Sayid began. "You gave me a gift, something very precious,” his voice was quiet and close. “I think it means, that we can always be together. I do wish to have this with you...”

Jacob curled in pleasure at these words, and became very soft, gentle and shy, still following Sayid's lead, allowing Sayid to take him into his new life as he wished, in any way that he chose.

“What are we, Jacob?” Sayid asked finally, feeling all of Jacob's body so close, curled against him with obvious love and devotion. Sayid was amazed when Jacob actually answered his question.

“You must get stronger, my love, before I can show you what is next... what it all means.”

“Show me a little,” Sayid prompted, hoping that Jacob would answer.

Jacob smiled, and Sayid was amazed again as Jacob acquiesced, nodding his head slightly. _He will follow my lead..._  Sayid thought. _There is nothing else. We are starting again._

Sayid's eyes widened. _Ohh, he's going to....._ Sayid thought as Jacob pulled his hand from under the covers, then up to Sayid's eyes, covering them.

The rushing wind with sprays of rain on his naked skin came into Sayid's consciousness before Jacob took his hand from Sayid's eyes. They sat at a great height, with immense mountains falling down and away to the sea visible on all sides, the rain clouds far below them teasing with an occasional ripple of rain on the searching wind, arriving in tiny, exhilarating sprinkles as fine as mist against their skin.

Sayid turned, and saw the smaller island behind them to the east, its shroud of mist transparent to him, so that he could easily see the ridges and beaches, the thick jungle and rosy spires of rock. All around them, long ripples of wind blown rain rippled from the clouds down to the sea.

Sayid looked at Jacob, who reached to him, taking his hand, holding it beside him as they sat. They sat naked upon a stone in the rough shape of a large seat, with arms and a back, and room enough for both of them. _Just room enough for two..._ Sayid thought, and Jacob smiled. Sayid looked around again, and found that there was no way up to this seat, or down again.

“I will show you...” Jacob said, and Sayid understood him to mean that he was to eventually show him how to _go_ in this way, to travel.

“A little more, my love...” Sayid asked, wondering if Jacob would teach him now.

Jacob thought for several moments, then came to a decision, nodding. He lifted his hand to Sayid's eyes, and this time Sayid felt something inside that went with traveling outside of time or distance.

Sayid smelled the wet earth and heard the forest sounds as Jacob took away his hand. He knew that they were on the small island. They were standing at the bank of a little stream, swollen and rushing from the rain. Upstream Sayid could make out a change in the jungle to a thick bamboo forest, swaying vigorously in the breeze. It made a certain whispering sound that Sayid always loved. Then he looked downstream and saw that the stream disappeared into a dark opening in the rock.

Jacob took Sayid's hand and put it on his heart, looking into Sayid's eyes for a moment before he shut his own. Sayid felt the warmth beginning in Jacob's breast, then traveling down his arm into his own heart, which glowed in him, loosening his perception in a strange way.

He saw then that the opening in the rock was glowing. It was a beautiful golden light that was intoxicating and somehow intensely familiar, though he couldn't say why.

The men stood in this way, gazing at the beautiful light.

"What is it," Sayid whispered at last.

"It is the source," Jacob replied with reverence, also in a whisper.

"...of everything?" Sayid somehow knew this.

"Yes," Jacob said. "And it is who we are," he added.

 Sayid was silent, troubled. _He will ask now_ , Jacob thought.

 "Is it... also your brother?" 

"Yes," Jacob said.

"You say that he is the gatekeeper. But how could he do.... that, if he is one with the Island, with this place that is the source?"

 "You will learn soon," Jacob said. As Jacob reached his hand slowly, Sayid stood still with his eyes closed, becoming almost accustomed to this magical moment of traveling with no travel. 

 Sayid opened his eyes, finding the landscape that went with a great upsurge of wind and the patterned spray of rapidly rising rain. They stood on a wide ledge, with views of several lower ridges in different directions, and at the end of a ridge on the far right, a little beach. Beyond was a great semicircle of rounded ocean to the horizon, broken in the west by the larger island. Jacob watched Sayid without turning to him. Sayid was clearly awed and Jacob smiled. 

"The small island..." Sayid said, looking at Jacob.

"Yes." Jacob said.

Sayid turned around to inspect the large, shady ledge, and looked up the steep mountain slope in which it was an indentation, the peak of which was out of view.

His eyes came to rest now on the archway in the stone face of a this high mountain ridge. The arch was carved similar to the entrance to their own temple home. He looked at Jacob, who was standing with eyes closed. Jacob seemed to be accomplishing something inside, as though reaching out in some way.

When he opened his eyes, he took Sayid's hand firmly with both of his hands. “Do not be afraid, my love,” he said.

Sayid looked at the archway with a sudden, overwhelming fascination and fear, standing absolutely still as though nothing happened, as though he saw nothing, when as if in slow motion, a figure appeared in the archway, naked as they were also, then stood perfectly still with no emotion at all on his face, his eyes locked with Sayid's.

 _He is waiting_... Sayid thought as he stared at the brother, who stood gazing back at him. And still they all stood there, the rain cascading through Sayid's hair, over his face, his shoulders and body, until at last Jacob turned Sayid away, gently placing his hand over his eyes.

Sayid smelled incense and opened his eyes. Jacob was ringing out his hair on the steps of the temple. Then he led Sayid inside with great gentleness. Sayid felt numb inside as he felt the bed still warm, the silken covers gentle on his wet and cool skin as they lay next to each other in the bed once again.

 

 


	12. Choose again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FINAL EDIT NOTES
> 
> 23+ day

Jacob held Sayid as before, foreheads together, the blankets pulled up to their ears. Sayid could clearly feel love and strength coming up from the island, coming from Jacob, into him, knowing him. He felt Jacob's protection, holding him with absolute purpose and strength.

“My love,” Jacob began, feeling the cruelty of this moment, holding back his own sadness as he reached to Sayid. “You are burning all of your fear of him at once. You must know him again, my Say.”

“But, why _..._ Jacob?” Sayid's fierce tone was a protest, a search for meaning, a solid place to stand inside. Jacob held him, stilling Sayid's mind with his touch, his loving caress. He felt Sayid's misery, allowing it to burn in his own being. He knew the fear of his brother was being consumed in this one long moment of terrible misery, and steadied his mind, renewing his purpose.

Sayid clung to him, making the sounds that went with his inner pain. Several minutes passed, and Sayid was quiet at last, his body loose and flat on the bed, sticky with sweat.

“You will choose this, and understand, Sayid.” Jacob promised. “Who we are together will not change. We are forever for each other.” Jacob's voice was serious, yet warm. He hugged Sayid closely. “You are mine, Sayid Jarrah... You have chosen me.”

 

In the late afternoon, Sayid arose with Jacob and accompanied him to the beach to fish. Sayid no longer liked the beach, any beach. But today he sought out the beach with Jacob, helping to carry his nets and buckets, repairing the nets as Jacob had taught him, fascinated as Jacob dropped the buckets near his little fire pit. He started a smoky fire, lifting the briny fish from the bucket and hanging them over the fire to dry in the strong afternoon sun. He checked another bucket, already full, adding more salt. 

Jacob then waded slowly out into a quiet part of the little cove, standing completely still before he threw the net with the elegant, smooth motion of daily practice.

Jacob tossed many of the fish back, choosing a certain type of fish, cleaning them, then rubbing them thoroughly with sea salt and tossing them into a bucket. When he was done, he added more salt, then checked his little fire. He sampled the drying fish hanging on the tree he used for this purpose, covered by an overhang and away from the rain. He adjusted the elaborate net further up in the tree, hanging over the fish, which served to frustrate the corvids and other birds who sought their share. He then tended to the smoky fire underneath, throwing on green kindling to create the smoke which kept away insects.

Jacob came to lay next to Sayid in the mild shade of the afternoon reaching over them from the trees that lined the cove, settling in, sighing with contentment.

“Ahh, another long day of work is over.” Jacob's humor was so dry that Sayid had missed it at first. But he caught it easily now, and somehow managed some humor through his own misery. “Well, my love.... I am still working.” he observed, finishing a knot in the net, then holding it up to look for more holes. "And you smell like fish."

“Sometimes more than others,” Jacob answered, cut inside by the strained attempt at humor in Sayid's voice. Jacob was quiet, thinking, questioning whether he should make Sayid wait. It was a pain that must be faced and endured, now or later.  

 _He is ready,_ Jacob thought, _but will he find his way?_ He watched Sayid's face as Sayid let the net fall into his lap, looking out to sea, obviously processing his burden of new emotions.

 _How many would do so without explanation?_ Jacob saw in Sayid's face the determination to conquer his fear, to move through it. _This is why I chose you_ , he thought to himself, smiling.

Sayid wrapped the net as Jacob had taught him, avoiding tangles and allowing the entire net to dry evenly when wet.

 _Yes, he is strong. But is he wise?_ Jacob fretted just a little before controlling his own mind, avoiding the pain that line of thought would bring him. _Well, what if he is not?_ He answered himself. _I cannot teach him wisdom._ He studied Sayid's face, his eyes, his nose, his profile so beautiful, his face dynamic, his emotions transparent and unequivocal.

_He is ready._

 

Jacob looked up at the sun, gauging how long to wait for the portion of their hanging fish which survived the birds. They dozed for a few hours, then collected the fish, still moist in the humid air, but preserved by the brine. They approached the temple, hanging the nets to dry, placing the buckets of fish in the natural hollow place downwind from the temple, replacing the clever cover Jacob had made for it, and hanging more nets over it.

They were quiet as they walked up to the stream to wash, and without a thought, Sayid walked directly into the little pool fully clothed, submerging himself up to and over his head, tugging so slightly at his hair. He reached inside for his experience of the divine which flowed with the water. It washed over him in a dance of joyful purpose, finding its way, pulling the pain from him, pulling it from his joints, his muscles, his face and eyes, his feet and his bones. He listened to the sweet tumbling sounds of the water flowing to him, flowing away, seeking the sea. Then he brought his head u, eyes closed as he breathed deeply of the pure and mossy smell of the little river, listening to the wind and birds in the trees above him.

 _It is passing..._ he thought, feeling his pain lessen. He pictured the brother standing just inside the temple, watching Sayid's eyes as the rain flowed down his face and body as the embrace of the sacred.  _Just a few hours ago..._ Sayid thought, questioning the realization that he had could come to terms with the pain this event had caused him. _It's because this pain is not about him...  
_

Sayid became aware of Jacob wading into the stream next to him. Sayid opened his eyes to watch him dipping himself in the funny way that he bathed, dipping then standing, dipping then standing, pushing the water off of himself each time he stood. Sayid could just make out the special mantras he offered in the water, always facing east. It was a strange “a-a... e-e... o-oh... mm...” sound followed by _surya namaha_ , which he recognized as the _mantras_ for Lord Surya, the sun.

 _It's always sunrise somewhere,_ Sayid thought, watching Jacob offering worship to the unseen home of the sun in the east, the same sun whose western rays speckled their back with dancing gold as they faced the deep and thick jungle, dark and alive.

Jacob had gathered his clothes and they walked back to their room, where Jacob helped Sayid remove his wet clothes. He opened the bed, then toweled Sayid off with one of the precious and luxurious towels Jacob had brought back from off island. He sat Sayid on the edge of the bed, rubbing the towel firmly and gently in Sayid's hair, drying his ears, behind his ears, then laying him back on the bed, dried his genitals and legs, watching as the hair on Sayid's legs jumped up a little after the toweling, smiling at the contented surrender of Sayid, eyes closed, drifting on his pleasure.

Sayid opened his eyes when Jacob finished, and moved in the bed, welcoming Jacob next to him. They both lay on their backs, gazing at the dark rocks with ripples of darker veins that arched over them, protecting them, holding their love.

“Is it not enough to love you, Jacob?” Sayid asked, finding his way.

Jacob sighed with relief. _And so we begin..._

“You must love us both, Sayid.”

“But why? Why then did he break me, make me hate and loathe him?” Sayid felt the remaining emotions from the horror of his ordeal sap his anger, pulling him back into the pain and at last to his little boy self, broken and alone.

“He did that so I could have you,” Jacob offered, knowing this would never be enough.

“How?! Explain it to me.” Sayid voice was demanding, almost harsh. He pushed his head into his pillow, knowing that Jacob understood, and would wait as long as it took.

“We haven't talked about this yet, my love,” Jacob said softly. “I promise, you will know and understand.”

Sayid had settled into the bed, limp, then his body pulling around his belly as he realized that he was crying, the pain coming up from his center. He turned away from Jacob and wept loudly for several minutes, reaching the point where he inhaled sharply between long, rhythmic cries of pain and loss, a little boy broken and alone.

It was quiet again, gentle with the sounds of their breathing, endless outside the patterned sounds of the waves reaching up, then falling, endless under the cries of the loyal sea birds, steady on to their purpose.

Sayid felt himself empty, hollowed out by pain that had drained away, absorbed by his new life and the island that would bear him now, in all things.

 _How did this happen_ , he wondered. _Did I choose to become this?_ He thought of his life now, loving Jacob, a being he did not understand, and hating one like him, the brother.

After a time, Sayid chose again. _I want to be his_ , he thought. _I choose Jacob, and all that may follow._

“I will,” Sayid said simply. “I choose you, my love.”

It was Jacob's turn to cry, the soundless tears of so many years of waiting.


	13. The greater test

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> final edit notes:
> 
> 24+ day

Jacob was sitting at his desk. It had been some time since he closed his journal, sliding his pen into the binding.

Sayid sat up on the bed, swinging his feet to the floor, yawning. He looked at Jacob, who was doing nothing. “Tell me,” Sayid said.

Jacob looked at Sayid, who immediately felt a tickle in the center of his body, near his stomach.

 _This is his answer?_  he thought impatiently. Then he closed his eyes, willing himself to follow the sensation, to be taught by it.

“What is this place, Sayid?” Jacob asked. Sayid felt nothing there, a place of numbness, and wondered that he had never felt this place in himself before. He opened his eyes, and saw that Jacob was satisfied with him, silent again, watching him struggle.

 _Damn these guessing games._ Sayid indulged in his frustration for a moment.  _My lover thinks he is fucking Socrates._ He almost laughed, picturing a white-haired Jacob dressed in a toga, questioning his mystified students, who must learn from his questions. Then Sayid laughed at himself, for he rarely cursed, in Arabic or in English, and wasn't very good at it.

Sayid grimaced and laughed at the same time.

Jacob smiled his usual mild little smile.

“You are a cross between Socrates and Mona Lisa,” Sayid observed, adding a very serious insult in Iraqi Arabic.

“My mother thanks you,” Jacob said with the same mild look of innocence. Sayid pouted, then gave up, then pouted again. _Always this._   _He knows, but does not tell me_ _._

"What is it, Jacob?"

Jacob looked at Sayid, wanting so much to help him, to reward his ability to reveal his inner struggle, something new. And still he sat, his elbow on the desk, his other hand on his knee.

Sayid waited. _Will he say more if I am silent, or if I ask?_  he thought, a familiar predicament.

Jacob was satisfied that Sayid had decided to wait until he chose to speak, and was open to whatever might be next.

“Sayee, my love...” Jacob began, thrilled by the look of love in Sayid's eyes as Jacob spoke to him as his lover. He began again, as the teacher. “Sayid... My Sayid. You have damaged yourself with evil."

There was a long moment, and Sayid felt a chill, thinking of the place of numbness.

Sayid spoke suddenly, surprising himself. “And what of your brother, is he not evil?”

Jacob answered the challenge immediately. "My brother protects the Island, he protects what is good. **Yours is the only evil he has ever done to you.** You have used yourself for evil, Sayid. You have allowed others to use your evil for their own purposes.”

Sayid knew exactly what he had done, the array of things done for evil. He thought of the DIA man, the larger than life military spook who spoke Arabic after all, who had left him used up, empty and homeless in his own desert after Sayid had learned to torture for him. Sayid had believed the prisoners he tortured to be responsible for the horrifying deaths of his people, men, women, children... all gassed, laying dead where they stood. Still... he was not sure, asking himself...  _Why was I so easy to use?_

Then there was Ben. Ben didn't mention any islands. He was a miserable, evil man who had sought him out, using Sayid to kill his enemies. Sayid had believed them to be responsible for the death of his wife, but he still did not know if this was even partly true. He had been driven by his grief, his cold anger and bitterness cast on the world with no certainty as to whom or why. He had been robbed by life. _I will do the robbing,_ he had decided. And so, he robbed others of their lives, again and again.

When he had buried his wife, Ben was there. And now that Sayid had somehow crashed on this island, he had found Ben here as well. He came from the Others, and he had returned to them. He was here long before Sayid, and had his own designs, ones that easily included murder, something Sayid had become very good at. 

**When Ben was done with him, he found himself empty and alone, used up and left behind. A torturer, and now a killer, with no purpose. _Why was I so easy to use?_ He still did not know. **

Jacob was still watching him, waiting.

"Tell me...” Sayid prompted. 

“You have accomplished so much, Sayid. You have replaced the decisions of a child with new ones, and can live now without a constant preparation for violence.”

Sayid held Jacob's gaze, happy to be so well understood by his lover.

"But you are compromised, Sayid. You do not have your integrity, a place to stand, to choose freely in life. You are still enslaved by evil. Faced with the greater test, you will still choose evil to address evil.”

 _That is why I was so easy to use...._ Sayid thought. _I chose evil to address evil..._  

“Evil takes more than it gives. It has its price. There is a place inside of you that is deadened by this exchange. It is a loss and a debt to yourself that cannot be repaid, a place that can only be awakened and answered by more evil. That is why evil enslaves.”

Sayid felt sure that he understood, but also found that he was no longer concerned about his old life. His spirit was soaring, he was made new in love. He was sure that he had moved on, and that he could make up for these mistakes by his new choices.

“I am _good_ , Jacob,” he stated simply.

“You have both good and evil in great measure, Sayid. But you cannot be for the Island with this place still inside you.”

“This is all a lot of effort about something I have long left behind,” Sayid complained.

Jacob seemed prepared for this answer. “That is why you must know him, Sayid."

_That's what this is about. The brother..._

Jacob continued. "I cannot teach you about this... as I could not free you before...” Sayid knew he spoke of his brother's violence. "You must accept him and go with him, if he asks you to."

 _“My Jay..."_ Sayid pleaded, alarmed. "I want only you, I do not want him at all.” 

“You must learn from us both, Sayid."

Sayid sat, looking at the floor, struggling with his obvious desire to avoid the brother, and his self-righteous indignation about being asked to do otherwise. "Tell me why, Jay..." Sayid asked.

"Do you want me, my Sayid? The Island will find and reject this dark place in you, and you cannot have me without the Island.”

Sayid felt unable to accept as teacher a man who had raped and brutalized him, no matter who that man was related to, or what he served in this world.

"He might take me away with him?"

Jacob nodded.

“What if I say no then, or now?” He asked. _I need to know this..._

“You will find yourself again in a world where we are forever apart, my love,” Jacob said. He was silent again.

 _This is damned hard, and so I will make it easy,_ Sayid thought. _I will please my beloved, and meet his cruel brother, and..._

“How long...?” he asked Jacob, hoping for at least this much to go on.

“My love...” Jacob began.

“You do not know,” Sayid answered himself. Jacob was silent. _Damned hard, and easy..._

“My Jacob. Whatever it takes, I am yours,” Sayid felt his willingness flowing, his indignation flowing away, replaced by a freely chosen submission to his love, more powerful than any other emotion. Jacob took a deep breath, relieved. 

 _I will do what it takes to survive this, and put it behind me,_ Sayid thought, settling into his decision. 

“How can I find you if I need you, Jay.... If we are away from you?” he asked, his voice soft, full of longing, willing that Jacob would answer. _Please... Jacob... I need at least this._

“If you ask him, he will bring us together.”

Sayid was silent for a few moments more, being sure of his decision. “I will,” he said at last. _For you_... _I will_. Sayid's heart was already breaking, for if they must part, he did not know when he would be with his Jay again.


	14. The burden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> romantic love with cuddling and kissing between brothers  
> ~25
> 
> Jacob answered the challenge immediately. "My brother protects the Island, he protects what is good. Yours is the only evil he has ever done to you. You have used yourself for evil, Sayid. You have allowed others to use your evil for their own purposes.”

Jacob knew the purposeful sound of a single step scuffed, a soft echo in the temple, and stood as the familiar silhouette appeared at the arched entry. Sayid also stood, feeling a close sobriety translated by discipline into a profound calm.

“My brother...” Jacob greeted the brother warmly.

“My brother...” the man answered. They embraced for several moments, a press of relief and reunion. Then the brother turned his eyes to Sayid, easily finding his gaze. Sayid feeling himself fully alert, was confused that he felt no fear or anger towards this man, whom he had only known in the form of Jacob and an act of supreme violence. _His eyes..._  he thought. _I remember your_   _eyes_. _It was you_.  

 _His eyes_... **Sayid found a profound sadness there, but also hope of relief. _He brings his sadness to Jacob._**

The brother was of a stockier build, a little taller than Jacob, more muscular, with brown hair and blue eyes. **Whereas Jacob seemed to always be privately smiling, the brother seemed to wear a face of knowing what others did not. His manner was quietly defended, as though he was burdened by a change in his nature, controlling an easy access to menace.**

Sayid looked again to Jacob, watching to see what changed in him, wanting to know who the brother was to Jacob. _Jacob is comforting him,_ Sayid decided.

Finally the brother turned toward Sayid. Sayid noticed at once the change in the brother's posture.

"You still have it," the brother said.

Sayid was startled by his voice, which was both resigned and fierce. "Never have I found it to go so deep. I will have to finish it."

"Finish what?" Sayid remained calm. He sought information.

"Evil, Sayid. You have evil. You chose it. It's yours."

Sayid controlled an instant memory of the immense suffering he endured at the hands of this man. _So painful..._  he thought. Then, _he is right._   _He forced me to pay the debt_ , _and it was immense. Torture... murder._ Sayid closed his eyes, containing the horror, the buried memory of what he had done, what he had learned to do. It had taken all these years to soften himself again, to partition off his memories, finding and softening his heart.

"I cannot think how this debt could not be finished," Sayid said, opening his eyes, his voice strident. "You almost destroyed me," he confessed, his voice audibly breaking in a very small way. 

"I can begin with your evil, and also finish it, Sayid, because I can _see_ you, the things inside of you.

Sayid was quiet then, unable to guess what this meant.

"You will expel it," the brother said with emphasis. "I will finish it," he promised.

It was quiet then. The brother moved to the desk chair, and Jacob relaxed into the overstuffed chair beneath the windows. Sayid remained sitting on the side of the bed. Still quiet. The brothers seemed to await that which was next between them. Sayid felt a strange relaxation, with no indication as to what might happen. He sat with the two brothers, idly but carefully observing. He guessed that the two were so intimate that talking was not required most of the time. They were each relaxed, lost in thought, gazing in a different direction, which made it easy for Sayid to do so as well.

Sayid looked at the brother's hands, clean and cared for. He looked at the brother's feet. He wore rough sandals, and his feet were calloused, but seemed very well cared for as well. As a soldier, the state of a man's feet told Sayid a lot about the man. A soldier without his feet was useless. This man valued his strength and autonomy, and was disciplined in his physical self-care.

Sayid looked at the man's pants, which were off-island made, but were stained, and ragged around the bottom edges. This in contrast to Jacob's pants, which he hemmed up or patched when they were ragged, and who was careful to keep them clean with as few washings as possible, getting the most wear from his clothes.

**_Jacob usually cares for the brother's clothes, as he now cares for mine,_ Sayid thought. _It is painful for Jacob to see the brother unkempt_. This led him to believe that  something had driven them apart recently.  _The dark task, his violence against me_ , Sayid thought.**

**Finally, the brother shifted on his chair, then got up casually and walked to Jacob's loom, admiring the emerging pattern as one who had not looked at it recently. The brothers still acted as if they were alone, with a natural privacy between them. Sayid had never known this aspect of Jacob, and it helped him now to understand why Jacob did not answer him most of the time. Jacob took for granted the privacy to not respond or even engage unless he wished to.** Sayid remained very curious as he watched them both, near to each other, finding the long way to each other, it seemed.

At last Jacob stood, and walked to the brother, and stood next to him at the loom. He put his hand on the brother's shoulder. The brother seemed to crave this touch, and struggle with accepting it. Finally he managed to shake off his tense stance as Jacob rubbed his shoulder slightly. Then Jacob stepped behind the brother. He put is forehead on the brother's back, then put his arms around him, his cheek against the brother's back, his face visible to Sayid as he hugged him with eyes closed. The brother tilted his head back slightly, and closed his eyes. He took a long breath, a sigh of relief, resting one hand on Jacob's hands clasped at his stomach. He took another long breath, breathing it slowly out as he relaxed into Jacob's embrace.

Sayid could see that Jacob's facial expression was one of strong emotion, of relief and a deep caring. It thrilled him to see this part of Jacob, to experience watching Jacob's feelings for another. 

They stood entwined for some time, until the brother moved very slightly, and Jacob slid his arms away. The brother turned, and they stood eye to eye. The brother's face had softened, his eyes gentle with relief and love. Then to Sayid's amazement, Jacob took the brother's hand as they brought their lips together, tentative, searching a way to be with each other, then deeper in a gentle, sensuous kissing, the brother a little taller, with his hands on Jacob's shoulders, and Jacob with his arms around the brother's back.

 **The kiss did not seem sexual to Sayid.** Finally, Sayid started to think logically again, and considered whether he should leave them alone, and perhaps find something to do outside.

At that moment Jacob stopped, turning to look at Sayid with a look of pure love and desire that made Sayid forget his confusion, wanting only to stay close to his beloved, waiting only for his direction.

“It is okay,” the brother said at Jacob's ear. Sayid was startled to hear a again the unfamiliar voice. Jacob moved his eyes from Sayid to the leather chair, which faced the bed.

**Sayid got up and quietly moved to the reading chair, with it's ample leather cushions. He watched Jacob, savoring every moment, noticing some jealousy, but most of all a fascination for learning more about his love, things that he could not learn in any other way.**

The brothers casually removed their clothes, leaving them where they slipped off and onto the floor. Sayid gazed at the larger man, his ample dark chest and belly hair, broad shoulders, and skin that was pale compared to Jacob's golden skin and his golden blond hair on his chest and belly, arms and legs. The brother's penis nestled in a thicket of black hair and was uncircumcised, similar to Jacob's.

Jacob threw the covers back and waited for his brother. Neither man had an erection, and as they climbed into the bed and nestled into each other's arms, Sayid could see that they were reconciling somehow, and that this was a very sweet relief to them both, entirely nonsexual.

After a time, Jacob moved up onto his knees and straddled the brother, who remained on his side, facing Sayid. He lay on the brother, putting all of his weight onto him, resting his chin on the brother's shoulder. He then began tracing the brother's hair back over his ear, over and over, with great tenderness. The brother responded by curling a little tighter against himself, relaxing into the pleasure and sensation of being petted.

“I love you,” Jacob said quietly near his ear. “I love you...” over and over, in the sweetest, gentle tones of pure love. The brother seemed to relax completely, drifting away inside, allowing his defenses to fall at last.

When the brother opened his eyes, Jacob was immediately still, waiting. A whisper in the silence, the brother's eyes moved, then his lips moved as well.

“Jacob...” the brother said. _“Say my name...”_

Jacob closed his eyes briefly, his face glad, then whispered close at his ear, “I love you, I love you... James, my Jaimie... I love you _Jay_ .” James closed his eyes, and his entire body changed from the container of an inner burden to the means for external release. He began to cry, his body shaking slightly.

 _T_ _hey have the same affectionate nickname ... The same name, as well..._ for Sayid knew that James and Jaimie came from the Latin version of Jacob, the name Jacob from the Old Testament, or Ya'qub in the Qu'ran.

“James... my brother,” Jacob spoke to him with affection. “I love you my Jay...” James remained on his side, his eyes mostly closed, looking down as he let his tears run one by one into the bed sheets.

Jacob sat up a little and looked at Sayid with a knowing look of love and kinship. He motioned to Sayid to come sit on the bed. Sayid could not guess what was happening, but followed Jacob's direction. All hatred and suspicion was gone, replaced by Sayid's concern for his beloved's brother. Jacob motioned for Sayid to lay next to James, turning towards him. Jacob slid behind James facing his back. Reaching to Sayid, Jacob took his hand and gently placed it on James' shoulder.

James opened his eyes, and Sayid gazed into those eyes, feeling as though he was tilting away from himself somehow, drifting in a gentle place of love, and the sweet need for love.

“Sayid, this is my brother, James. James, this is my lover, Sayid.”

James took Sayid's hand from his shoulder, and kissed it. “My brother,” he said. 

Sayid felt his eyes widen with understanding. _He does everything for Jacob,_ he realized, beginning to understand how much he sacrificed for love.

“My brother,” Sayid answered, bringing James' hand to his own lips, the hand of the one who most loved his beloved.  

 

 

 

 

____________________________________ DELETED

 

continued to feel an immense confusion that he could not mentally address, for he

He felt that he knew the man not at all, as though he were meeting him for the first time. _Perhaps he was... different then, when he was with me..._ he thought, trying to solve the puzzle. Sayid realized that Jacob was also watching him, assessing his reaction. For a brief moment their eyes met, and Sayid could see reassurance in his eyes and in Jacob's posture.

Jacob turned and offered the desk chair, then brought his stool over, placing flasks of water near to it, and on it their recently prepared meal. Jacob took his own meal to the reading chair beneath the windows, and Sayid noticed when the brothers seemed to incidentally begin eating at the same moment.

Jacob had harvested and boiled some wild rice, a delicious nutty flavor that made the same old fish taste almost new. They used the special leaves as plates and ate with their fingers, dripping lemon juice onto the fish with its rub of garlic and herbs, dabbing in the pickled mangoes and little mound of sea salt Jacob served with special meals. Sayid observed the subtleties of their movements, noting that the brothers ate in a similar way, and seemed to finish at the same exact moment, both licking their fingers when they were done. Sayid wondered how many of Jacob's idiosyncrasies, things he had assumed were unique to Jacob, were actually shared by both brothers.

Sayid managed to eat, but he was intensely curious. He felt comfortable with the brother's presence, but still could not guess why. He realized that eating together had reinforced a feeling of kinship and safety. _Jacob is so wise..._

 


	15. Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~ eve of 25

James finally turned onto his back in the bed. Jacob pulled a clean handkerchief from under his pillow, and the brother dabbed his eyes and wiped his nose. He composed himself a little, and smiled. Jacob and Sayid turned onto their backs as well, with their heads bent a little towards James'. Sayid remembered such moments as a boy, watching the clouds, a special camaraderie.

Finally the two brothers began to talk, and Sayid listened with pleasure as his Jacob talked with someone else. Jacob told James about some mischief “the people” had gotten into, and how he hoped that he had taught them a lesson. The brother snorted and reminded Jacob how many times they had done this over the years, laughing and greatly entertained as Jacob related the part that made this time special.

Jacob told the brother about the men that came ashore, and how he had taken Sayid with him, sharing the light from the Island that came through the special crystal, which he called a  _vitrum,_ describing how it affected Sayid's body. Sayid felt proud as Jacob praised his willingness to learn, his dedication to each task. Then Jacob drew Sayid into the conversation, mentioning his love of maps and his recent work on understanding the part of the Island that was below water. Sayid felt James' approving eyes on him as he described his work, and Jacob as well, and felt a happy satisfaction that he wanted to feel again and again.

The sun was going down, and the sounds of night came closer, more intimate on the cooling air.

Laying together in the peaceful quiet, Sayid asked himself the only question unanswered, the one he thought had mattered most, even though he felt somehow that it did not matter anymore.

“Jacob...?” he ventured, his voice clear and calm in the darkened room.

“Tomorrow, my love,” Jacob answered, and Sayid was still.  _Tomorrow then..._

 

 

 

 

 

 


	16. Three brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FINAL EDIT NOTES: Waning moon high in the West

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cuddling, m-m sex, non-consensual elements, anal sex

Three brothers slept through the night curled together in a large bed, wrapped in silken sheets and the bonds of love. Every so often they partially awakened and lovingly hugged and caressed each other, turning and moving against each other before slipping back into contented sleep.

Sayid awakened alone when it was deepest night, watching the shadows of the trees outside dance in the room, traced by moonlight from the waning moon high in the west. He listened to the two brothers beside him, breathing together, deep and alive, united in sleep.

 _Only one of them can embrace evil,_ Sayid thought, taking up the realization he had before sleep, his sudden understanding about the two brothers and their relationship, their symbiosis. _James is the one who transforms evil. And he does so out of his love for Jacob._

It seemed that the brothers were sometimes parted by evil in a subtle way that required James to become a stranger, even nameless for a time. Then he must find his way back to Jacob, to Jacob's love for him. Sayid felt the power of Jacob's love woven throughout himself now, and knew that Jacob's love could easily conquer a rift that might divide the brothers when one of them was touching and dancing with evil.

 _I have been touched by this place in him_ , he thought, trying to remember what James had done to him, and trying to understand how he might have done it for Jacob. James had become the darkness that consumed him as a boy, his entire world. He had preyed on Sayid as an evil creature, dark and cruel. And now Sayid was amazed to find that James had done this at great cost to himself, an unbearable time of separation from his brother and love, Jacob.

_Only one brother could search through the pain and self-hatred of my rape. Now he will do the same with me as a torturer and a murderer._

This must be the pain, the burden he had seen in James' eyes. The brother's nature remained more fluid. He was never complete; a bridge between light and darkness. 

 _Jacob also bears a burden,_ Sayid thought. _Jacob's burden is... indebtedness. Jacob is always indebted to James, who carries the greater burden for them both_.

Sayid turned in the bed to look at the two brothers, curled together as one. _What are they...?_ He still did not know. They called him brother, now, and he felt it to be true.

 _Two brothers whose lives are entirely about good and evil, light and dark._   _Two brothers and an Island, a very old story that somehow involves me._

Sayid still could not guess his role in this story. He lived now by faith, a faith that he could not have without his love for Jacob. 

 _And so..._ This was the essential part of it all. The love they shared with Jacob.

 

Sayid slipped from the bed just before dawn and moved soundlessly through their home, feeling the sweet energy of the temple follow him out, down the steps and up the little path, loving the morning air, mild and gentle on his skin, whisper soft on his genitals. He turned and stepped carefully into the dense under foliage and trees where the wild area began, enjoying the view of the morning sky above him. He stretched as he pissed, feeling the muscles in his pelvis stretching and relaxing in a pleasurable way, his balls pulling up tight as his penis danced up and down slightly. He shook the last drops, then walked back to the temple entrance. He touched the floor as he entered, something Jacob often did, a way of accepting grace.

He heard Jacob's whistle behind him and turned to see Jacob returning from his ritual bath, his movements so slow and relaxed, smiling and reaching to Sayid for a kiss and a long hug before they went back up the steps and through the temple together. Jacob dressed quickly and returned to the temple immediately, and the low sounds of mantras combined with the fragrant smoke from burning _dhoop_  soon drifted into the room, so that Sayid felt himself swaying slightly, almost swooning from the sensual pleasure of sound and fragrance as worship.

James was still in bed, his back to Sayid, his breath that of sleep. Sayid felt a strange pleasure in watching him sleep, of standing over him. He felt the impulse to join him in bed, and lifted the covers, sliding onto the sheets next to him. He rolled towards James, and after a few moments, touched his shoulder tentatively. Soon James reached to take Sayid's hand as he rolled onto his back. He smiled and yawned, then puffed the pillow up under his head and gazed at Sayid with a generous warmth. Sayid sat up a little, and returned his gaze. James' eyes were clear and relaxed, with no sign of his pain or struggles from the night before.

“Well, my pupil. What evil business have you been up to today?” James asked.

Sayid was taken aback. He thought of his past as something that he had made a clean break from, and something very serious, something he had never joked about. But he also saw the sparkle of humor in James eyes and relaxed into his challenge.

"I'm still looking for some evil for today," he said, with a smile. Sayid noticed immediately that he was drawn to this banter, these elements of power shifting between them.

"I could use an excuse to use you again, if you've got any real evil left in you," James offered, still gazing directly at Sayid.

Sayid was instantly hot, feeling his fire, his eyes dark as he sat up, his posture guarded as he controlled the impulse to strike James, to stop his words, to make him hurt.

James waited for Sayid to fully register his anger, to guage its intensity. "What will you do to me, now that it is your turn, Sayid?"

"Roll over and I'll show you,” Sayid thought to joke, but heard the threat and surge of fire in his voice.

James' eyes got larger as he playfully exaggerated a feigned concern about Sayid's threat.

“Show me,” James taunted. After another moment of charged eye contact, he rolled over, kicking the covers off, rounding the pillow under his chest, clearly quite serious.

Sayid stopped, and was amazed to find that he was actually considering violently fucking James, fulfilling a delicious need for revenge. He traced James' long, arching back with his fingers, and felt his desire for him. He enjoyed this, looking at James' back, as it gave him a feeling of power.  _His back is less confusing to me,_ he thought, wincing at the memory of him in Jacob's form. _He was there... this man... is the one who raped me._

Sayid felt his feelings becoming more violent, adding to his arousal. Sayid craved retaliation. This was the fire, the strength he had drawn upon to force his way through the world when everyone around him was falling, crushed by the chaos of war.

 _No._ He separated himself from his feelings and sat back on the bed, struggling to make a rational choice. He had never raped before, and this was too close. _I will not do this,_ he thought, closing his eyes. _I do not need revenge,_ he told himself, squeezing his erect penis, silencing the deeper ache, the hidden place of denied need.

James rolled swiftly onto his side, facing Sayid, and in an instant grasped him by his hair, pulling his head towards him. Sayid was completely surprised, but did not entirely resist, trying to understand what was happening. _"Is this what you want, whore...?"_ James spat the hated words at Sayid, forcing Sayid's head towards his cock. Sayid's mind was flooded with the memory of the Uncle's face contorted with hate at his cheek as he pushed Sayid down, a crumpled boy bearing the weight of a man on his aching back, the weight that became the hated sensation of defeat, the same hated feelings he relived when he had born the weight of James as he used him.

Sayid was suddenly fierce and fully charged with a sexualized need for retribution. _It is only what he did to me..._  He climbed in one motion onto James' back, then grasped James' hair and jerked his head back sharply, forcing his fingers into James' mouth, fucking his mouth with his fingers as he ground his penis into James' back.

"I will show you," he said without shame or regret.

Sayid could remember now, his face pressed into the sand, his face covered with snot and the blood from biting his own mouth, the salt in his sweat and tears stinging his eyes and his face where it was torn.

 _“You fucking whore-bastard,”_ he hissed at James' ear in Arabic. He knew then that he was going to do it. _I'm going to do it._ He pulled James' hips up and humped hard against them, his full-on erection sensitive and already craving release. He ground is cock hard against James hips, then pushed him flat again, sitting on top of him, pushing James' face into the bed. He pushed down on James' shoulder with his other hand, jumping slightly, mashing his face down into the bedding, feeling the tension in James' body as he fought the fear of suffocation.

 _“Is this what you want?”_ he growled at James' ear as he pulled him up again, and fucked against James' back with his hips and erection, slamming against him, pulling him up and back by his shoulders, hitting him over and over with his body.

 _I'm going to do this..._  he thought as he spit into his hand and grasped his erection, sliding the tip down to the right place and angle, then began to force his way into James, who grunted his urgent complaint, his pain. Sayid remembered the pain as James' had entered him dry, the violent way he had used him, the bonds slicing into his wrists as he felt himself going under, lost in the defeat he vowed to never accept again. _Never..._

 _“What are you going to teach me about evil,”_ Sayid heard his voice sharp and low, the flood slipping past his control, feeling the craving touched by a surge of relief, the revenge becoming his, as hate became pleasure.

He relished his dominance as he fucked James hard, pushing up and striking hard against James with each stroke, forcing James' body up and then back on the bed. 

Sayid was fucking fast and hard, taking and taking his revenge. He fell onto James, covering him, shaking his head and growling and rubbing his face hard on James' back as he approached his release. He put his fingers back into James' mouth as he began to drive to the crest of his pleasure, fucking him quick as he groaned long, coming and coming to his peak so that he called out, grasping and pulling at James, still moving with savage pushes and jerks until he slipped out and fell onto his back next to James, panting and spent.

James stayed on his stomach, his face in his arm. They were apart and alone.

As Sayid's breathing slowed, the sound of his own breath slipped away. He felt much more than sexual release, and lay with his eyes closed as his mind was perfectly still and silent, his emotions settling deep and balanced. There was a strange silence behind the noise of the world around him, the birds, the waves... it was all made from a silence under the sounds like the vibration under a hum. He stayed with this silence for as long as it remained near... noticing when it gently slipped away.

He felt James roll over onto his side, facing him. Sayid did not move or open his eyes. He did not know yet what he would feel when he opened them.

“So, my Sayid..." James said calmly. “Tell me about how you became a torturer and a murderer.”


	17. Listening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final edit notes
> 
> low tide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-graphic memories of torture

Sayid was ill. He rolled over and vomited onto the floor, heaving and gagging with very little to bring up before breakfast, his breath sounds desperate and heavy with misery.

He lay at the edge of the bed then... quiet, _listening_.

 _Where is Jacob?_ He ached for Jacob, a pain beyond needing him, every part of him craving his touch.

Sayid still had not opened his eyes. He felt as though he had just awakened, _listening_ , finding his place in a part of his day already in place without him. _Someone is dead because of me._

 _Listening_...

He felt a hand on his shoulder, steadying him, then pulling him slightly. Sayid rolled back towards James, who embraced him.

Rocking in the brother's arms, Sayid pushed his flat palms on his face, over his closed eyes. He began to cry, silently, a sudden desperate wailing, still silent, with few tears.

“ _What have I done.... what have I done...?”_ he cried at last into his hands, asking himself over and over, hearing these words from the past as he rolled away from James, again to the side of the bed, fighting reality, fighting who he was.

He opened his eyes then, needing to see his life here, but saw only _the old man_ , the one who haunted him. Sayid felt his own face wet, his tears flowing _now,_ as he saw only _then_... as he stood again over the old one who would not speak, who only grunted when Sayid's man tore his fingernails, grunted when at last Sayid took him up and broke him against the heavy desk, who grunted but would not speak when Sayid kicked him again and again on his broken legs.

Sayid _knew_ that the man was responsible for the deaths of his soldiers. _He is my enemy_... he told himself, unsettled by the man's silence. This one had valuable information that he could use to try to save himself, information that Sayid wanted. But this one.... he would not speak.

Sayid lost control in front of his men. He broke the man several times over, then turned away in disgust, killing the man without touching him.

Two of the soldiers stood and walked past Sayid, the man gasping as they lifted him, gasping as they dragged him away. Sayid could hear the man's breaths behind him, numbered, measured by the steps and the moments before they reached the other room, then silent when they stopped his misery.

 _What have I done...?_ he had asked himself, as he did each time, when he turned away at last, listening.

If he turned back towards them, pushing down on them, again, with new depths of pain, hopelessness, humiliation... If he turned away from them at last, listening for the moment when they were forever beyond his reach... it was always finished the same way. He stood savoring the cold burn of it, observing his own destruction, saw himself emptied, the warmth of his humanity flowing away as he fed himself to an advancing numbness, his inner fires cold, yet flickering higher as though he wasn't dying or already dead.

Every day he had more reasons to kill what was left of him at the center of this madness, the madness of war, and the only place he could see himself clearly, and know with certainty just what he was made of.

_Evil._

Sayid could hear himself, his sobs that became long aching moans as he was made to feel it all again.

“No...”he was begging, barely a whisper. He heard his voice pushing, suddenly taught as if forced through him, from him. “No...”

“ _Sayid...”_ a voice said at his ear. There were arms around him, he was not alone.

 _James._ He realized he was fighting against James, pushing him away.

“Sayid...” James said, grasping him tightly until Sayid relaxed and rested in James' arms, taking his comfort, so grateful for his embrace, feeling James' love for him.

“ _No... oh no...”_ he heard himself again, immediately lost inside, the horror splitting his heart, the pain flowing out, the worst pain just beginning.

He was blind, then he could see only _the doorway_ , gaping at the back of the remembered room, his room, the place of his work... the door that he never saw open, the black opening he kept behind him... _moving, coming towards him._

Sayid began a fierce struggle, and felt James' arms tight around him, containing him.

“ _No...”_ he called out, slipping inside, then limp and weak as the door enveloped him, the darkness of the doorway swallowing him like so many others before him.

And he could not stop it, he could not close his eyes.

The doorway he never acknowledged or touched seemed to open in one motion around him, and he saw inside, he could not look away. Bodies. Broken, bleeding, anguished faces, frozen with the terror, the terror of pain, of loved ones left behind. Jutting bones, hands clasped as though in prayer, begging for mercy. The tally of his work, no longer _this_ one, under him, behind him, never seen again. No longer the day's tally of his work hauled away to be burned. But the many made into pile after pile, counted and organized into a display of the reach of evil's hardened hand at work, easily grasping all who came near.

_Someone is dead because of me..._

“Sayid...” he heard his name. “Sayid...” It was James' voice, cool and light on the inner field of his pain and misery.

Sayid felt his lips moving, his tongue touching his teeth, his belly moving as he pushed the breath out... trying to form the words that went with his terror, his pain. _“Help me, James,”_ he whispered at last, sure of James' love for him. And Sayid felt the change so slight, the fractured moment when he let himself hope that he might escape this darkness inside of himself, the reality he carried hidden, a pressure underneath his every step, behind every word, gushing into his mind with the descent into sleep, pushed deeper by the desperate fear of dreaming.

Instantly all of it was gone. All of the darkness in him, his terror, his guilt, self-loathing and shame... moving through him, then gone. _Here_... he lay with eyes closed on the bed in James' arms, loving him, holding him tightly as he sighed and sighed, as his hurting was moving, rearranged, losing its sting, healing and settling into place, forming the pattern of a new wholeness.

Sayid felt... _new_. For the first time since childhood, he knew what it meant to be free.

_Listening..._

The sounds of the day drifted back into Sayid's consciousness. Outside the little windows, the tide was low, and the waves were soft, a gentle wash barely audible under the peaceful chatter of birds. He felt as love the familiar hum of a divine intelligence under everything, under it all.

Then he heard words, already made, hearing them _inside_ first. _I love James. I love him._

“I love you...” he whispered, opening his eyes. James' eyes... so close. They appeared to him as two magic vessels, pulling him into them, enveloping him as they became one, bobbing and floating away from the life he knew, his body curled in a little round boat made from love.

“I love you Sayid, my brother,” James said. Sayid moved so slightly, finding his body, and felt himself held and fully embraced by the one who loved his Beloved best.

 _“You have chosen me, Sayid Jarrah,”_ James said, moving his lips to Sayid's ear, almost whispering words somehow hypnotic, a pact and a promise... 

 _“You_ _are mine.”_


	18. One of a pair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took intense concentration over several days to write, edit and complete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> m-m sex, anal sex, kissing, cuddling, gentle sex

James held Sayid close as he slipped back into a dreamless sleep, a long day's rest following the long night of his life, now adrift in nothing, fearing nothing, lost in the certainty of one who has been found.

When he awoke, Sayid found James' scent, so near and warm in the bedding, feeling his eyes stinging with the salt of his dried tears. He slipped from James' arms and sat on the edge of the bed, feeling emptied of his doubt and pain, looking around at every part of his world with new eyes.

 _Am I worthy of such love?_ He could not answer. He was loved, and he was transformed. He still didn't understand why.

He felt James slip in behind him, hugging him, reaching into his thoughts by rocking him softly. Sayid was still amazed that James was so loving, that the brothers were _so loving_ , beyond anything he had ever experienced in his life, with a man or a woman. It was this love that made him new.

“There is more work to be done, Sayid,” James said calmly. “Be happy, you have done well.”

“I am...... _soft_ ,” Sayid said, rubbing James' arms.

“You are so sweet, Sayid, and I love you,” James said. Sayid let his head fall back onto James' forehead, and put his hands on James' knees, rubbing them softly.

“I am happy.” Sayid said. He slipped his hand under his pillow, pulling his handkerchief up to his eyes, dabbing and washing the salt from them.

“Come, let us walk outside,” James prompted, shifting his weight on the bed. Sayid stood, dismayed by his vomit on the floor. He teetered on the edge of shame, and James' caught his arm, gently pulling Sayid against him. Sayid buried his face in the taller man's neck and shoulder, lost in his scent, loving James' hands rubbing up and down his back, then hugging him.

They turned and walked through the temple and out into the day, squinting and smiling in the sunlight as they walked up the path. Sayid felt his vision and hearing noticeably amplified, his skin so sensitive to the sunlight and the very slight movements of the breeze caressing him.

When the men returned, they stopped outside the temple entrance to stretch and look up at the treetops and the liquid blue sky organized by advancing clouds of white, balanced flat on the humid air like the hidden efforts of waterfowl swimming against the current. Sayid recalled viewing the unbroken horizon of ocean from the island heights, where the entire ocean had seeming playfully hidden under itself, the tiny white caps hinting at the compelling efforts of huge currents, of the largest of physical forces, exertions so large as to remain hidden.

Sayid turned to look at James, feeling his eyes widen a little as he compared the love of the two brothers with these natural forces, finding theirs to be the larger force by far, somehow rising from the heart of the island, far below the waves, where a secret world made these who made him... the brothers entirely visible to him, entirely mysterious, almost entirely unknown.

As they walked through the temple, Sayid caught the very subtle movement of James' hand, his fingers brought to his heart, his head slightly bowed.

James' immediately knelt to clean Sayid's vomit, and Sayid looked away, his mind wandering a little as he stood in front of the bookshelf, reading the familiar titles, not knowing what to do with himself, or what was next. James' gathered the items for a bath, and they walked to the little pool where Sayid lay back in the water, closing his eyes, feeling the flowing water slipping over him, caressing him as though it were a living being, carrying away what was left of his shame and self-hatred, soaking him only in the new.

They walked back slowly, sharing the unspoken intimacy of men, relaxed with each other, finding their purpose.

 

James' sat at the desk, gesturing towards the bed. Sayid sat, still wet and naked, gazing at James, who lifted his foot to search for, then pull a thorn from his foot. His skin was pink and moist, with a few little drops that slid down his muscular chest and arms, disappearing into the black hair below his belly. James sat back and lifted his eyes to gaze back at Sayid, his body perfectly still, his eyes unflinching and perfectly focused on Sayid's for several long moments.

“James...” Sayid ventured, having learned to recognize the best moments to seek answers from Jacob.

“He is elsewhere. It is our time to be alone together,” James' answered, his tone that of reassurance and casual concern.

Sayid's longing was a deep, physical ache that reached through him, needing, seeking all that he knew as Jacob. Sayid looked down at his lap, grasping his knees, his elbows bowed outwards. He felt a strange combination of exhilaration and confusion, his body and spirit way ahead of his mind, it seemed. He shook his head back and forth slightly, the drops of water falling from his hair, focusing on the moment, hungry for what was next, and next, and then... to run back into his Jacob's arms.

“We will be together for some time, Sayid. Settle into your time with me. Trust me, Sayid. That is how to enjoy each other, to make a place for each other in our hearts.”

Sayid found himself thrilled at these words, yet also felt the familiar slight bristling inside of himself that came up with James, who talked to him as though he did not know what was most important to know.

 _Should I ask?_ Sayid thought. Jacob never answered this question. _  
_

James smiled, catching Sayid's eye again.

“James... What is happening to me?” Sayid felt his heart and his whole being caught up in these words as he gave voice to what he most wished to be answered, words that were always close at hand in every moment.

“Not yet, Sayid.” James answered.

Sayid felt the subtle pout in his posture, so hungry to know more, always made to wait.

“Let us begin again tomorrow,” James suggested. The two men sat for moments, then minutes. The strong salty smell of the surf below found them, seeking entrance to their home on the tiny shafts of morning sunlight poking through the leaves outside.

Moments, then minutes. Neither man moved. _Perfect..._

 

“Will you love me, Sayid?” James asked.

Sayid's firmly held gaze was the exact measure of the distance and desire between the two men, the burning answer of his body and of his heart, a heat in his eyes a visible “yes.” But in his mind.... _No,_ he thought. _No, I have hurt him._ It no longer mattered to Sayid that James had hurt him.

“Sayid, you did what you must with me, what was best, as I did with you. I want you to love me now, and we can let this go between us, it can be gone before we move on to what is next. Let us finish it.”

Sayid listened, felt himself emerging from _inside_ , where he had been held closely by so many feelings now slipping away. He noticed a very slight pulling and relaxing in James' feet, ankles and legs, and knew that he was feeling deep desire for him, a surging pleasure.

_For me..._

Sayid stood and James immediately stood with him, so that they came together next to the bed, their fingers in each other's hair, their lips coming together and tongues strong and deep. Sayid grasped himself, rubbing his erection against James', as James clasped his own with thumb and finger, rubbing hard against Sayid, a boyish dance, hip to hip.

The men's gasps of pleasure and passion seemed amplified in the silence of the room, and with each gasp the other's pleasure mounted until they writhed against each other, trying in vain to get closer, to tongue deeper, to push harder, to be the one who fucked the other more... without fucking.

James began to push Sayid towards the bed, but Sayid slipped slightly to the side, so that James fell instead, grasping Sayid's shoulder, pulling Sayid down next to him onto his arm. He took Sayid's kisses, then enclosed Sayid and squeezed him, rocking him under him, pinning him, whispering in his ear.

“ _Sayid, my Sayid.... you are my Say... be my Say...”_ He caressed Sayid face, then pulled away, reaching for the vial of oil. He opened it and the sweet scent of sandalwood played on the air, a scent that Sayid associated with lovemaking, the memories of pleasures and passions shared with Jacob.

“Will you take me, Sayid?” James asked as he rubbed the oil firmly on his penis, adding more, lifting his hips slightly from the pleasure of each stroke of his hand.

Sayid breathed long, his body arching slightly, feeling the urgent need to _receive_ , to _take_ James inside, to open to him.

“Will you take me, James?” Sayid answered quietly as James gently turned him, covering him, owning him, seeking the depths of him with one long very very slow stroke of opening, of moving, of loving and mutual pleasure. Sayid drew his knees up and pushed himself onto James, pushing his head against the bed, his curls tumbling down around his head.

Slowly, again and again... their breaths became sighs and syllables, vowels pushed up and out by the consonants of their bodies meeting in the familiar rhythm and tensions of love.

James stopped and ground against Sayid, sure he could get no deeper, and Sayid brought his hand down to pleasure himself, grabbing himself with sudden passion, then feeling James grab his hand so that they both stroked him, playing against the give and take of each other's hands, sharing the thrill of Sayid's mounting pleasure and excitement.

James began to stroke inside _just so_ for his own pleasure, mounting to his release, as Sayid was taught and still with the certainty of his own, arching his face into the bed as he came, his voice letting go as his body seemed to pull itself apart, then falling undone, playing in its finest pleasure upon the bed.

James pulled out, and Sayid rolled slightly, breathing heavily, his hair tangled over his face and in his beard, his brown body arranged by love, compelled by the harms of bliss into the frank display of inner pleasures.

James fell next to him and turned to him as he was finishing himself, watching Sayid watching him, slowing a little. He made of his last few moments a show for his lover, his body rigid, then soft, a pale softness, his movements so slight as he closed gently against himself, his lips parted and his breath, like his body, barely moving.

Sayid watched him with fascination as all of James was given to this complex flutter, his subtle movements reminding Sayid of a flower in the rain. He put his hand on James' stomach, feeling the rippling there, then pulled himself up and lay gently on James, covering him, feeling his whole body pushing against him, against the bed, his long breath the name of hidden places, his mix of sweat and come the measure of pleasures spent.

This was what was real to Sayid, and everything before had become another person, another day. He brought his mouth to James' and kissed him, settling against him as one of a pair.


	19. Hello Sayid

It was late and Sayid still wasn't asleep. He lay next to James and listened to him sleep, asking every hour, though he felt at last that he knew the answer.... _Am I worthy of such love?_

He remembered those special days with Jacob, the two of them laying together in his tiny tent, in his tiny bunk, loving and laughing as they fell in love, their honeymoon, he realized now. He smiled remembering their boyish smiles and laughter at the silly smiles of those in the camp, and the little band of survivors' delight as they shared in Sayid's delight, his happiness in his growing love for Jacob.

_Oh how I miss him..._

He felt James roll over, lifting his head, listening. He whispered to Sayid softly, though Sayid could not make out what he said. James sat up, watching the doorway.

Sayid sat up and turned his eyes to that doorway, black as the room, blacker. He felt his body tense, and suppressed the urge to go to his weapon, which he no longer kept next to the bed.

A figure appeared in the doorway, and Sayid felt James' hand firm on his shoulder, steadying him.

“Hello Sayid,” a familiar voice said.

“Hello Ben,” Sayid answered.


	20. A situation

Sayid rose from the bed, facing the source of that disturbing, unexpected voice. He stood in the darkness, hearing James move to the edge of the bed behind him, feeling for and lighting the lamp on the side table.

Sayid and Ben stood, looking at each other, knowing each other, remembering.

 _This_... thought Sayid, cursing under his breath in Arabic.

“I missed you too, Sayid,” Ben said. He pulled the desk chair over a little and casually settled into it.

There was a long moment of uncertainty before Sayid spoke.

“Let me guess, your name is Henry Gale,” Sayid said with a bitter sarcasm. He felt James take his hand, and breathed out his tension, regaining control.

“Everyone hates me,” Ben confided, looking at James, who turned his head a little, smiling.

“James knows the real me,” Ben said. Sayid sat back down, rubbing his face with obvious frustration. The two lovers sat naked on the edge of the bed, Sayid's hair wild, James sniffing his armpits and scratching his chest as he winked at Ben.

“Well, I see that you two have forged a strong bond,” Ben said, sitting back in the chair, looking around the room. “Too bad Sayid doesn't bring any decorating skills.”

“Oh, can we skip this part,” Sayid said, glancing sideways at James, who shrugged his shoulders.

“Okay.” Ben said.

“Someone, tell me... something,” Sayid said, taking a deep breath, facing the inevitable.

“Well, Sayid,” Ben began. “You have given a lot to me over the course of our friendship...”

Sayid groaned.

“... so now it is my turn to give to you.”

“The point...” Sayid said.

James touched Sayid's shoulder. “This is what is next, Say...” he said, catching Sayid's eyes with his own, rubbing Sayid's shoulder until he relaxed.

“You asked him here?” Sayid finally put it all together.

“Yes,” James said, shaking Sayid very slightly, helping him to relax. “Though I didn't expect him in the middle of the night.” It was Ben's turn to shrug. James stood and walked to his clothes, pulling them on. He lit a smaller lamp, slipping on his sandals, then his eyes down, he turned away from Sayid, his body softly swaying in the light from his little lamp as he moved slowly through the temple and disappeared out into the night.

Sayid repressed the urge to call after him.

The two men sat, and Sayid decided that worse things could happen than getting a visit from Ben, like being left alone with him. The fact that James had asked him here was alarming. He wondered if someone was using someone here, or perhaps they were all using each other. He felt pretty sure that all people, without exception, were viewed as something to be used by Benjamin Linus.

“Okay Ben, please tell me what you are doing here,” Sayid asked.

“We've got... some unfinished business to attend to, Sayid.... a situation.” Ben said, his voice now serious.

“Okay,” Sayid said, his manner also becoming unemotional and focused. “Let's hear it.”

“I need you to kill someone for me,” Ben said.

Sayid just looked at Ben. His look said that Ben's next words should be chosen carefully. Ben did not speak.

“Have you made some new enemies, Ben?” Sayid finally said with a bitterness like poison, hearing the pain in his voice. He did not move his gaze from Ben's face.

“I have, yes,” Ben said. “But one of them is of a special variety, and requires an experienced assassin, someone I can trust.”

 _Assassin_...

Sayid was not surprised that Ben would choose such a loaded word when trying to manipulate him.

 _I killed for this man,_ he thought, stepping back from his visceral reaction to Ben's smooth intermixing of truth and dishonesty. _And he is still a liar._

Suddenly Sayid realized that what Ben was asking of him was much more than unbelievably annoying; it was completely absurd.

He shook his head forcefully. “What I did was never easy for me.... But now... I will not do that again.” Sayid noticed that he was arguing when there was no argument, and that he had to check an impulse to defend past behavior that was not being questioned. This was unsettling, frustrating.

“Why are you even here, Ben? You must know that I will not do anything for you ever again, and I assure you, _I will not kill for you.”_

“Someone you know needs this help from you, Sayid,” Ben said, his voice still serious. “Someone you know very well.”

“They need it, or you need it,” Sayid countered.

“Both.” Ben asserted.

Sayid lost his patience again, but did not speak. _Why was I so easy to use?_ He asked himself the familiar question once again, starting to understand why James might have asked Ben to come here.

_If I am still a murderer and a torturer, will the island ask this of me? How will I know?_

“Both...” Sayid repeated Ben's answer, waiting for Ben, who did not speak.

Sayid reached for the lamp, turning it up slightly. He felt that something was happening with Ben, right now... this wasn't about a task or a mission, or a new assignment for an old assassin.

Sayid relaxed, appearing to lose focus, careful to hide his own reactions. He looked at Ben casually, trying to read what was “off” in him, in their conversation. Ben's face, always expressive, though usually false, was unreadable. _I can read his eyes_ ... Sayid thought. He could always read their eyes. _He is ready,_ Sayid thought. _Ready for what?_ Ben was not moving, he was completely still.

Sayid traced Ben's body carefully in the lamplight, noticing areas of tension. _His hand._ He glanced again at Ben's hand, then continued to look elsewhere. _He has something hidden in his hand._

Sayid stood over Ben, grasping his hand in one quick motion, taking the hidden item. He opened his hand. A small black stone, round and completely smooth.

Ben lifted his other hand, opening it, palm up. A small white stone, round and completely smooth. Ben closed his hand over the stone. There was long moment when Sayid decided he wanted Ben to stay more than he wanted him to leave. He sat back down on the side of the bed, his hand clasping the black stone resting in his lap.

“There is no in between in this test, Sayid. No gray, none. You must possess both stones to pass the test. Both stones represent a _means_ , a way of attaining. You have taken possession of the stone that goes with doing what you must. You must somehow possess the stone that goes with doing what is best.”

“I am here to ask you to kill for me Sayid,” he repeated.

“For you, and for someone else, someone I know well.” Sayid prompted him. “Who is this other person, Ben?”

“It is you, Sayid.”

Sayid stopped. He felt his breath almost fluttering slightly, his heartbeat skipping, a moment moving with the subtle dance of lamplight on the walls and ceiling.

 _This is not about Ben_ , he thought. _It is about me._


	21. A beating heart

Sayid looked down at the floor, at his brown feet crossed on the smooth stone, a tiny halo of golden lamplight dancing on them without sound. He looked at his hands, one palm down, still clasping the stone, the other he lifted slightly and looked at it, palm up. He found the tiny scars from injuries he received while torturing, something only a lover would notice. Each one had a voice that went with it, someone terrified, someone in pain.

 _Someone is dead because of me_... he heard the familiar words, only this time he saw those he had killed for Ben in his mind, their eyes wild with fear, their bodies falling, the copper smell of the blood flowing, the sweet smokey smell of the gunpowder rising.

He had thought it was his own idea to work for Ben, to begin killing for Ben.

_Why was I so easy to use?_

He remembered Ben offering him proof of who killed Nadia, a photograph of the Iraqi in the car that had struck her, killing her. Sayid remembered walking away from Ben already knowing what he would do with this information. The question was, would he seek more, kill more of the ones who did this, who took her away from him? 

He knew when he killed the Iraqi, when he felt the sharp spike of heat rising through his body, his thoughts and motivations becoming one-pointed, his pain pushed aside, his past undone and no longer connected to _now_. That really was the end of questioning. It was too hard without it, too easy to slip back into a familiar method of numbing an intolerable pain.

He needed more.

He did not return to _torture_ ; only _killing_ , he told himself. But wasn't it torture when he appeared and their faces were as wild as his own was grim, their eyes pleading as with his dead eyes he hated them, as he easily found the stance of killing, his arms raised, the weapon at arms length between his eyes and their heart, as he pictured that beating heart, then took it away.

The world went completely silent around him, a life extinguished, then the sound of his own heart still beating, still filled with pain, needing more revenge, more.

Sayid tried but could not remember if he had ever believed he had done these things for Nadia. What if he had done them only for himself? If someone must pay for her death, then Ben knew who they were, the ones who would pay. The Italian, the Russian, it was so easy to find them, to kill them, to walk away. The man in the restaurant kitchen. The man outside of the mental hospital. That one had died without knowing he was in danger. The men he fought at the safe house... his memory of them distorted by the drug when he was darted.

Sayid was avoiding the thought of Elsa, as he always did. No. He would not remember what had happened, what he had to do. Killing Elsa had created more pain in him than all of the pain that was taken away by killing the others. 

 _How did I end up in that position_ , he asked himself. He still did not know.

Sayid looked up at Ben. Ben's eyes were kind, even sincere. He seemed happy to wait for Sayid to decide what came next.

“What should I do, Ben?” Sayid asked sincerely. Ben smiled. He was obviously happy, and relieved. His whole attitude changed to someone who was about to begin something very important.

“Good for you, Sayid,” he said. “Good for you.”


	22. He was brave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild memories of torture

Ben was silent, and sat with Sayid with a look so full of presence that Sayid was unnerved, almost afraid, checking his feelings. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, relaxing into his body, becoming as still as Ben, the stillness of listening.

The breeze outside and the sounds of the distant waves were muffled, sounding further away, then completely silent. The only sounds were the cadence of the mens' breathing, which seemed louder in the stillness.

They sat in the lamplight, the slight movement of the gentle light the only visible motion in the room. Sayid could feel his heart moving his body so very slightly with each beat. The cool floor felt reassuring beneath his feet, smooth and hard and pleasantly familiar, the part of his home that they all touched most, the comings and goings of those that he loved.

Still listening, the moments passed and Sayid was still attentive, waiting.

Then Sayid found another sound, the sound of another source of faint breathing. Turning his head to listen, he found the direction of this sound, and looked to the reading chair in the darkness below the high windows. The chair, but a few steps away, seemed far away from the lamplight, but close to his hearing, the breath sounds drawing his eyes, seeking their source.

He found the dark figure there, the size of a child, almost too small to be seen above the outline of the large chair. The shadow seemed strangely quiet and still for a child, and Sayid was moved by a premonition of someone from long ago. He felt a strange heat at his crown start and then ripple like fire so slowly, almost winding down his neck and spine, then turning icy cold, making him shudder, stirring him to action. He stood, leaning to grasp and calmly lift the lamp, and brought it to the middle of the room. He held the lamp up, revealing the figure to be a gray haired man, small and bent over with age.

Sayid stopped, feeling his eyes focus as he stared and then blinked at the man, the one he knew to be dead. He closed his eyes, remembering how he had left him broken, how they had carried him out of the room.

 _My room_.

When Sayid opened his eyes, he was somehow standing in that room. The old man sat in the middle, straightened on the familiar chair, pained by the tight bindings, the floor beneath him dark with the fluids of fear and torture.

Sayid stood where he had once stood _then_ , and found that he was still the same man, with the same emotions, good and bad. But none of it meant the same thing. Instead of seeking to destroy his emotions with his chosen craft of destroying people, he found that he now was examining his emotions with a hungry curiosity, finding knowledge of them interesting and valuable. It was a moment of humanity that changed his place in the scene. He saw clearly how he had slipped into a role in the wider play of evil that snaked through many lives and one small world, a power of destruction and death greater than them all, yet still affected by their smallest choices.

He was intrugued when he bent to the man, speaking low in his ear. “Give me one name,” he said, as he had repeated with him for days, over and over. “If you will give me _his_ name, you will not suffer, and I will protect your family. You will be free of _this_...” Sayid looked up, gesturing at the world of war around them, beyond these walls.

He noticed the change in the man's posture and breathing, and wondered if at last he was considering Sayid's offer, his promise.

“Save your family, Nazeem,” Sayid said quietly at his ear.

Sayid waited, then stepped back, ready to start over yet again, so many times with this one. He turned to his men, but instead of having them return the man to his cell, he gestured for them to leave, gesturing again to reassure them. The men glanced at each other as they stood, obeying this rare request, leaving him alone with a prisoner.

Sayid sat on the edge of the desk, waiting for the old one, to see if he would speak first, would speak at last.

Suddenly, in his mind he heard one word, as clear as if he heard it aloud: _Nazeem_.

“You!?!” Sayid said, his quiet voice a question and an answer. “It is _you!_ ”

Sayid stood and held the old man's head, looking into his eyes.

“ _It is you._ You are the one I seek.” Sayid dropped the man's head, turning away. He almost laughed, shaking his head a little as he let the relief pour through him. At last he could stop this man's destruction, and protect those Sayid commanded and served.

Sayid closed his eyes, indulging in this feeling of relief, then immediately turned back to face the man under the single light overhead, haunted by.... He had seen in his mind the numbers of men he had broken and killed to get to this one, thinking the old man was just another one who would talk or would not. How many men? How many that knew nothing? He did not ask these questions. And yet... these questions had found him at last.

He looked at the old man with new eyes. His age and bent body were a perfect disguise. Sayid never expected to find that a weak old man had sent spies to him, men who over the course of years had slowly infiltrated his feared unit of spies and enforcers, Sayid's accomplices in the intelligence gathering that went with his role as torturer, and theirs of executioners.

“Nazeem...” he said, looking at the man, watching him for signs that he was afraid, for a clue to his weakness. He found only strength and nobility. He realized that he admired the man, that they were perhaps equals.

“We are two enemies, you and I, are we not?” Sayid asked, seeking a shared understanding. At last the man lifted his head, and looked at Sayid with defiance and kinship in a shared world, though they found themselves on opposite sides of it.

“It is true,” Nazeem said, speaking at last. “We have all become you...” he added, and Sayid was puzzled. “We have all become you, Sayid Jarrah. Whoever is best, whoever is worst, that is what we have all become.”

“You think you are like me?” Sayid asked him.

“I am a worthy enemy, am I not?”

“You are,” Sayid agreed, “Though I did not picture you thus.”

“It took you a long time to find me,” the man said, smiling. “And many men...” he added quietly, his voice at last betraying a weariness, his face becoming hardened and resigned to pain. “It is time for this to end, Sayid Jarrah.”

“I would make it all end if I could,” Sayid mused quietly, letting his guard down, something he never did, without exception, as a matter of pride in his craft.

“Be realistic,” Nazeem said, chiding him. “I knew your father, Sayid. _Be like your father_ , it is what every boy must hear when he loses he way.”

Sayid felt his face change as his emotions seemed to tip over inside, starting a reaction of feeling that he could not fight or control. _Be like father_...

“Save my family, Sayid,” Nazeem asked. It was a request that Sayid had heard from every man he turned away from, every voice that would soon be silent. _This time... I will._ Just as he would save the lives of those who depended on him, the lives of those on Sayid's side of a divided world. He would do this, because he must, but also because it was best.

Sayid saw clearly then that he _was_ like his father, always ready to do what must be done. His father had taught Sayid to be this way, and when it came time for Sayid to be a soldier, he was immediately strong and capable. He found his way, and found his place in it all during a time of darkness and division.

“I will protect your family, Nazeem.” Sayid said, his voice a promise. “They will know that you were brave,” Sayid could hear the humanity in his own voice, and knew then that his own fate was not yet written, as it was for this one.

“Thank you, Sayid Jarrah. I will tell your father as much.” Nazeem must know that Sayid's father was dead these many years.

Sayid knew that they were both finished. It was time for this part of his work to end.

He walked to the door, and welcomed his soldiers, who entered, then stood near the door, awaiting his orders. He walked to the center of the room, the center of his world. He did not look at the man again, nor at the dark doorway at the rear of the room.

Sayid turned away from the man, his back towards him, and looked at his men. They seemed relieved as they walked to Nazeem, picking him up by his armpits and turning him as they walked to the rear of the room and disappeared. Sayid could hear Nazeem's breathing as they retreated, then the solid click as the door closed behind them, then all was silent.

It was as though the single light above him had gone out. He did not look around his room, or back at the chair and desk in the center. Pushing open the door, he walked out into the early evening coolness, leaving the room behind him.

 

Sayid looked up and realized that he was standing in Jacob's room on the island, his room, the lamp in his hand, the chair empty as he turned back to Ben, who looked at him with a knowing look of acknowledgment, the shared relief of the freedom and willingness to move on from what was most difficult.

 _Be like father_ , Sayid heard his brother's voice again, remembering the apparition of his brother standing in the jungle, holding the long dead chicken that Sayid had slaughtered for him. His brother was much older than that boy now, though Sayid had lost contact with him years ago.

 _I am like father,_ Sayid thought with with a new feeling of trust in the course of his life, feeling a strange mix of emotions that made him think of Jacob and miss him terribly. Sayid lifted his hand, warm and moist from clasping a tiny prize. He opened his hand and was mystified by what he saw.

There were two small and smooth stones on his palm, one black and one white.


	23. It is done

At that moment, Sayid turned to see the faintest outline of movement in the outer doorway of the temple, recognizing the tall figure of James returning with the faintest light of dawn behind him.

Sayid felt his heart swell as James walked straight to him and embraced him, kissing his forehead and embracing him several new ways in succession, communicating a special welcome which augmented Sayid's laughter. “Yes, Sayid, you are becoming like me,” James said, playfully testing various places on his body, catching Sayid's eye as he caressed him all over with his hands, laughing.

Sayid felt wild little bursts of bliss all over his body. James slowed his touches, lingering in each place. Sayid felt as though he were lifted and began to fall forwards, so that James quickly caught him, hugging him as Sayid slipped under. Sayid clasped the little stones tightly as James carried him to the bed, laying him very carefully under the covers, then stroking his hair. He kissed Sayid, and Sayid felt it as his last sensation of floating, floating off into a velvet vision of sleep.

James remained on the edge of the bed, still holding Sayid's hand lightly, watching over his peaceful sleep. He turned to Ben, and they both smiled, holding each other's gaze. They sat for awhile, until they were sure that Sayid was deep in sleep, recovering from what had happened.

“Thank you, Ben,” James said.

“Of course, James,” Ben nodded, still smiling. “He seems to have moved entirely through it.”

James thought for several moments. “I think he is done with it.”

“I think so too,” Ben said. “He has chosen to kill only because of duty, not for himself, and not even a thought of killing to numb his own pain. It is done.”

“Yes,” James said. “He is so close now.” James sat looking down at Sayid lost in peaceful sleep.

“Will Jacob return?” Ben asked.

“Not yet, my friend. Soon.”

“Okay, well if you need me again...” Ben stood, shaking off the stiffness of sitting.

“Stay,” James said, standing. Ben allowed James to embrace him warmly.

“Someday you will embrace me back,” James predicted, aware of the double entendre as Ben laughed and changed the subject.

“You have done well, here,” he said as he looked around. Then Ben picked up the little game box as they turned to walk through the temple. Ben slowed a little to gaze up at the distant ceiling, finding the places where the handiwork of many people long dead was most visible.

“A moment...” James said as he turned, listening as Ben continued outside for the strange _crunch, crunch_ sound of one who wore shoes.

**James sat again upon the bed, watching Sayid sleep. He caressed Sayid's hair and cheek lightly. He felt that his love for Sayid was the closest that he would ever get to having a son, and yet, Sayid was his lover, and somehow owned the larger portion of his heart.**

**James leaned to Sayid, placing his forehead gently on Sayid's shoulder, making a sudden tryst of moist breath expanding as love. “You are going to be me, Sayid,” he whispered, feeling tears start as the ache pushed through him, so much stronger now as he allowed himself to feel the long denied need for release.**

**When his tears stopped, James sat up and wiped his eyes and face, looking around at it all, imagining the change. After so many years of bearing the burden, waiting for the one who would finally come... Here lay that one, his own.**

**James prepared and brought food and water out to the little hand hewn stools and mossy edged table there under the trees. He pulled up a seat opposite to Ben, and carefully spread the food out on the low table. They ate slowly, laughing, remembering what they liked most about each other, pulling out some well worn reminiscences, taunting each other about funny situations from the past.**

**Both men were content with their place in the world. Both knew well that the currents of life flowing through them were shaped by that One which had remade them. They had given all that they had to the Island. They had given themselves.**

 

 

 ________________________________________________________________

~ END OF BOOK THE SECOND~

So ends the SECOND BOOK of the trilogy HEART OF THE ISLAND

Book Three begins here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2280219/chapters/5011035


	24. Going forth

_Like falling in love all over again..._ Sayid felt saturated with love as he sighed and touched and touched and sighed with his two brothers who also caressed and kissed and loved him back. They lay on the bed for hours, hands clasped, skin to skin, drifting and waking with movements matching the sensuous rhythm of breaths and the furtive dance of the their eyes, sometimes plainly offered, and sometimes shy, as humans are. The men were given to a sweet dozing, and whispered with the surety of love between the little currents of sleep, the deeper breaths alternating with the sweetness of words, the confessions of lovers.

Sayid's bliss did not diminish, and this constant current of bliss had changed him, changed everything. Every moment he settled back into the One who lived inside him, his bliss soared yet again, and he belonged more each time to the source of that bliss and its agents, his brothers. The bliss was forever more than the sum of all he had ever belonged to before.

He lay upon the bed with his brothers, and knew then what he would be the moment he left this bed and went forth in the service of the Island.

Sayid's world was reordered. He felt light and playful. The knew the fruit of his actions would remain always on the altar of his heart, a gift to his source, a form of worship. Each prize sought or reached for in himself he would give over to his source out of love. He knew only play, love, and duty, and he loved all three equally. Each moment would shape each of these in a certain measure. Each would be equally sacred when offered to his source as worship.

Sayid _knew_ that the Heart of the Island was one with the Supreme. He was not surprised to learn that it pleased his creator to take shape in many ways, to form a multiplicity from the creator's being in every way, large and small. His personal form of the Supreme had found him, had bound him to the sacred place that lived as the Heart of the Island, his Creator as his heart's desire.

 

Jacob rolled away and lit a little lamp. The two brothers stretched and rolled sleepily from bed, each moving as one who had a practiced purpose. It was still dark, and the breezes from the high canyons above flowed past the temple, a whooshing sound at the little windows still dark and unseen above.

Sayid enjoyed being alone, listening as the brothers attended to the temple, chanting and waving the little golden lamps in the familiar patterns made tall by the size of the temple, all framed by the dark arch of the little room.

Still Sayid remained alone, completely relaxed, but alert, listening to his own thoughts, following the currents of him impulses and feelings.

“I cannot wait,” he said aloud, not sure why he yet felt some reluctance. “I will go to him today.” He did not want to leave the brothers now, when sweetness ruled their hearts, but knew that he would choose it, as duty. Sayid knew little of what his duty in service to the Island would be. He only knew that he was unfettered by limitations of movement, and all was revealed to him in the moment.

Sayid pictured Ben sleeping in the special little bed he had shared with Jacob, perhaps waking now and sitting on the cliff overlooking the dark water, waiting for the light.

 

When the brother's returned, they slipped into the silk robes, and Sayid sat up, reaching for his own. The three were smiling, as though having matching robes was a delicious conspiracy only they could share; one that remained as yet unnamed, a certain sweetness held in anticipation.

Jacob brought careful selections from his treasures from off-island, and they ate slowly, relishing the hearty food, then nibbling on the sugared dates, each with their focus relaxed and far-flung, a solitary wandering of three minds.

The birds had begun, and the windows above were just visible, a little string of squares lit by a strange combination of black shading to darkest blue, with the diamond stars still fully visible.

The three brothers dressed, and Sayid reflected for just a moment about the last time he had worn clothes. Jacob had filled Sayid's little pack with food and a flask of water. He also enclosed a few delicate presents for Ben from himself. James communicated his well wishes for Ben.

The brothers continued outside as Sayid bowed, then knelt, then lay flat at the altar of the great _buddha_ , knowing his source, the shape of all gods and _buddhas_ , offering his heart to the One, grateful as always for the  _mantras,_ the perfect worship that matched the perfect love in his heart.

He joined his brothers standing in front of the temple, the rosy morning tempered as the winds died down. Far below the endless lines of white sea birds flew along the beaches, some closer to the water than others, each in a direction somewhat different from others, so the lines of birds seemed to cross each other, then break into the swirls of descent that changed their color from stark white lines to the gray circles uneven upon the water.

Sayid turned to James and hugged him, then kissed him lightly, his eyes reassuring. He could tell that James was very happy for him, and saw him off with an intimate pride.

Sayid hugged Jacob, then found in his eyes a certain parity as Jacob stepped back just a little, acknowledging Sayid's new sovereignty, giving him his blessing.

Sayid closed his eyes, and found the place that had gone with lifting his foot, a beginner's technique for a power he was only just beginning to explore.

Instantly he stood on the beach near the statue, looking out to sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sayid returned to the silent exhilaration of shared concentration on the little box-like game board. He stood for a moment, the lacy leaves above the two men shifting so the sparkling sunlight danced upon the scene, making them both appear completely still, like two men forever concerned with the next move in the game. ~ from BOOK THREE: Heart of the Island


End file.
